Eden
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Serenity's crew stop off at the Wayborn Skyplex, but there is trouble for one of them, and an old enemy rears his head. Reviews are good for the soul ... NOW COMPLETE but more to come.
1. Chapter 1

Freya stared into the empty shuttle, devoid of everything that had been Inara. Except the scent of incense.

"Odd, isn't it?" Zoe said behind her.

"Mmn."

"It's going to seem strange for a while, 'til we get used to it again."

"When she left before, how did … how did everyone cope?" Freya asked, looking over her shoulder at her friend.

"Mal was grumpy, Kaylee was upset, Jayne was abusive –"

"So pretty much like now."

Zoe smiled. "It ain't like she's dead. And we'll be back in a few weeks."

"I know." Freya sighed. "You know, this is the longest I've ever been in one place in my entire adult life."

"You thinking of going somewhere?"

"No, it's just –"

"I mean, you're married. That probably makes a difference."

Freya laughed. "Could have something to do with it." They left the shuttle doorway and headed towards the galley. "I don't see me moving on any time soon unless Mal does. And I don't see him moving on at all."

"Would you want him to?"

"No," Freya admitted. "I love this boat. So I tend to see us getting old and grey on board."

"And are we in your vision?" Zoe asked, her lips lifted.

"Oh, sure. You and your eight kids."

"Only eight?"

"You got Hank fixed."

"Ouch."

They laughed together.

"So how's it going?" Freya asked as they stepped into the dining area. "Morning sickness still an issue?"

Zoe sighed. "You know, it must be being out here in the black. No natural light. Only my body doesn't seem to know when it's morning, and I throw up all sorts of other times."

Freya nodded. "I know what you mean. I had the same problem."

"Did anything Simon gave you work?"

"Honestly? No. I just had to put up with it."

"Yet you want to go through it again."

Freya grinned. "For what you get at the end? Hell, yes."

Zoe stroked her belly. "Kinda interested to see what he's gonna turn out like. Me or Wash."

Freya's smile froze. "Wash?"

Zoe went pale. "I didn't … I didn't really say that, did I?"

"Actually, yes you did."

"_Cao._" Zoe sat down heavily. "Don't tell Hank."

Freya went down onto her heels next to her friend. "Zoe, it was a mistake. You didn't mean it."

"It was an accident."

"Hank won't hold it against you."

"He might. Me thinking about my husband while the father of my child barely gets a look in."

"Is that the way of it?"

"No. But he might think –"

"Zoe, Hank loves you. He's also insane, but I'm sure those two things don't go together."

"Then why do I want to burst into tears?" Zoe asked, sniffing slightly.

"Hormones," said the voice of experience.

"That it?"

"Zo, I was crying so much Mal had to keep a towel by the bed."

The thought of her captain wiping up a sea of tears was enough, and Zoe laughed. "A towel?"

"Okay. Maybe a flannel."

Hank took that moment to stroll into the galley. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking at his lover sitting at the table, apparently upset.

"It's just hormones," Freya said, standing up.

"Oh, well, yeah, I get them," Hank said, walking towards the coffee, but keeping an eye on his woman. "Plays hell with my ankles." He paused. "Wanna see?"

Freya put up a hand quickly. "Thanks for the offer, but … no."

"Your loss." He poured himself a mug. "I'll have you know I have a fine pair of legs. Ain't that right, Zoe?"

"Actually, yes," the first mate admitted. "And just the right length."

"Yep," Hank agreed. "Otherwise they'd never reach the ground." He grinned. "So, you two ladies looking forward to doing some shopping?"

"I thought Mal said we didn't have the money to go spending," Freya pointed out.

"_He_ might not, but I've still got my share of the Magdalene haul." Hank sighed happily. "I'm thinking I might buy some stuff for my son."

"Son?" Freya looked quickly from Hank to Zoe.

"He's been dying to tell someone," Zoe explained. "Only it ain't common knowledge yet."

"A boy?" Freya grinned widely. "That's great!"

"You mean you didn't know?" Hank asked.

"No. I … it's sort of personal." She coloured a little.

Zoe smiled. "Just don't tell everyone else yet. It's our secret. Simon only told us a few days ago."

Freya nodded. "Of course not." She licked her lips. "Any … um … ideas on a name?"

"Well, I was thinking –" Hank began, but Zoe interrupted firmly.

"No."

"I just want gonna say –"

"I know what you were gonna say, and I said no."

"I just think it would be nice if –"

"He is not going to be called Hoban."

"Really?" Freya was surprised. "Why not?"

"Because Wash hated that name, and I ain't gonna call my son something his … whatever he might have been … hated."

"Whatever he might have been?" Hank prompted. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, you think of a way to describe Wash."

Hank opened his mouth, then closed it again. He thought for a moment. "Uncle," he finally said.

"Uncle?" Zoe looked up at him.

"Uncle," Hank repeated firmly. "So far I'm Uncle Hank to Bethany and Ethan, like you're their Auntie. So I reckon it'd be right for him to be Uncle Wash. Hell, if Jayne gets to be, then I think it's fair."

"Uncle Wash." Zoe tried it out for size, rolling it around her mouth. Then she smiled. "You know, I think he'd like that."

"Then it's settled."

"What's settled?" Mal asked, coming into the dining area. "And I thought you were just gonna grab a coffee then get back to the bridge?" he asked his pilot, quite pointedly.

"I got caught up in a discussion on the relative merits of nomenclature," Hank said grandly.

Mal glared at him. "You've been spending too long talking to River," he said. "Go on. We'll be at Wayborn in less than thirty minutes, and I'd kinda like not to hit anyone on the way."

"As if we would," Hank scoffed, before hurrying back to the bridge.

Mal watched him go, then turned to Zoe. "This is what it's gonna be like from now on, ain't it?" he said, shaking his head. "Right up until that one's born, I ain't gonna get a word of sense outta my pilot, am I?"

"Did you ever?" Freya asked, leaning on the counter.

"True." He settled himself into the seat next to Zoe. "You okay?" he asked, almost as if in passing.

"I'm shiny, sir," his second in command said.

"Good. Just you keep it that way. And don't you overdo it." He tipped his head towards her. "You need anything, you just ask."

"I will." Zoe got up. "I think I'll go and keep Hank company for a while." She strode to the door.

"Okay. Just don't put him off flying my boat," he called after her. Turning his head he grinned at Freya. "Do you think I embarrassed her?"

"Oh, only a lot," his wife said, taking the vacated seat. "Was that the intention?"

"A little bit," he conceded. "But I really do want her to take things easy."

Freya moved closer to him, putting her arms around his shoulders. "Mal, no-one on this boat is going to let her lift anything heavier than a mug of coffee. And only then if it's only half full."

He smiled at her, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling in just the way that made her heart beat faster. "Mother hen," he teased.

"Cluck. Cluck," she said, reaching forward to kiss him softly.

--

The man stood in the small airtight capsule, beating on the thick plastic with his fists. The two men outside watched impassively. They could see he was screaming, probably obscenities, perhaps pleas to be released, begging them for mercy, but there was no sound.

"Is the best you could obtain?"

"Well, I can get any type we want, but sometimes it's easier to go with what's available. After all, it's not like we've been that successful so far." The younger man looked almost apologetic. "So it doesn't matter that much, does it?"

"Is true. I am, how you say, disappointed with our progress so far."

"This one might be better." He pulled the cuff of his shirt a little further from inside his jacket sleeve. "He's a thief. Apparently quite successful himself."

"But not enough."

He smiled. "No. Not enough."

The old man shrugged a little. "Without success I am not able to work. And you are paying me a great deal to work."

"There's time." He stepped closer to the capsule. "It's not as if someone's going to jump in and stop the project."

"No indeed. And the other? With the loss of the shipment …" He waved his hands expressively.

"That won't be a problem." He tapped on the plastic, his breath fogging it for a moment. "Always more where they came from."

"Good, good. Now, to work." He turned to the operator in the booth and nodded.

There was a hiss, and a thin vapour began to fill the capsule from the vents in the floor. The man inside tried to back away from it, but there was nowhere to go. The mist swirled around his knees, his thighs, up his body. He tried to push it away, but as it reached his chest he covered his mouth, holding it as long as he could as the haze submerged him entirely, finally having to take a deep shuddering breath of gas.

The older man stood and gazed, his eyes unblinking behind the thin steel-rimmed spectacles. He was holding his own breath in anticipation.

The subject collapsed against the glass, his face contorted, lips smearing down the inside of the capsule as he slid to the floor.

"Good, good," he muttered, clapping his hands lightly together.

The gas cleared, sucked away to be replaced by clean air.

"How long does it take?" the first man asked, curious to see the effects first hand.

"Not long. Our experiments have proved it is almost immediate." He stepped closer to the capsule. "Soon."

The man inside stirred. Then, with a speed that made the first man take a step backwards, he launched himself at the wall of the capsule, roaring with rage, his face twisted into the macabre semblance of a man, but with no humanity left. Or sanity.

"_Ga ni niang_," the first man muttered, staggering back, staring at the plastic. "Is this … it will hold?"

"Is fine. Strong. Built to protect us, not him."

"Well, that's …" He pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his lips. "So now what?"

"Is part one. Only first part," the older man explained. "We have to know about the control."

The other man watched their victim tearing at his clothes, his skin, screaming with anger now as his fingernails dug gouges in his own flesh.

"Is good." He nodded once more to the man in the booth, then turned to his companion. "Now for the rest."


	2. Chapter 2

The Wayborn Skyplex looked like it had been built out of the remains of a dozen or more spaceships, all different, but all brilliantly lit with advertising selling its wares into deep space. One of the first commercial skyplexes, it was designed around a central core, where the cargo was held until picked up, and had several levels of shops, entertainments, even a whorehouse. It was also bustling with people, all types, ages and sexes, some dealing, some buying, and some looking to get rich without having to work for it.

Freya was following Simon, Ethan on her hip, Kaylee next to her, picking their way through the crowds.

"Sure is busy," Kaylee said.

"Sure is."

"And the smell of all that food … kinda makes me hungry." The young mechanic sniffed the air, taking in the aroma of all the different food stalls.

"Best you wait 'til we get back to Serenity," Freya warned. "You have no idea what's in it."

"Hell, I don't care about that!" Kaylee laughed. "Long as it tastes nice."

"Philistine," Freya said good naturedly.

"Who?" Kaylee asked, but her friend didn't answer.

Instead Freya watched as a young boy cannoned into Simon ahead of them, then ran by them both – or tried to. She grabbed him by the arm and swung him around to face her. Handing Ethan to Kaylee, she glared at the boy and held out her hand. He tried to look innocent, but then to Kaylee's amazement produced a small wad of currency and placed it in Freya's hand. He tried to move, but she still held him fast. She moved her hand closer under his nose until he reluctantly, and with very bad grace, produced another bundle of cash and handed it over. Freya gave a small nod and released him, and he scuttled off into the safety of the crowd.

"Did you just roll him?" Kaylee asked in wonder.

"Serves him right for pinching so badly," Freya said with a smile, pushing the larger wad inside her shirt. She took Ethan back from her friend, whose mouth was still open, then called, "Hey, Simon."

"What?" The young doctor stopped and turned to look at her.

"You missing something?" She walked to him and held out the rest of the cash.

Simon's hand slapped to his pocket. "How did you –"

"Keep it somewhere else," Freya advised, handing it over. "There's pickpockets all over this place."

"Thanks," Simon said gratefully, starting to put the cash back into his pocket then wondering where the hell to put it so it would be safe before thrusting it down his shirt.

Freya grinned at him and patted him on the arm as she carried on by him, going towards the postal desk where Mal was standing.

"We got mail?" she asked as she came up behind Serenity's captain.

Mal smiled at her. "Yeah. Package for Jayne –"

"I got a package?" the big man asked, materialising out of nowhere, River at his side.

"Here." Mal handed a small box to him. "Just be careful how you open it."

"Hey, it's from my mother!" Jayne exclaimed happily.

"Maybe it's another hat," Kaylee said, coming up with the others.

"Could be," Jayne said, opening it up. "She said she was gonna knit one for everyone on board."

Simon looked appalled, and turned to Mal for him to take charge, to say it wasn't necessary, but he was watching Jayne lift a pair of large, thick woollen socks from his parcel.

"Hey, how'd she know I needed some socks?" he asked, examining them with delight.

"She's your mother, Jayne," Freya said. "All mothers know their sons always need socks."

"I hate to think what state your socks are in," Kaylee said. "Surprised they don't try and climb out of your bunk without you."

"Only 'cause I nail 'em to the bulkhead," Jayne replied, surprising everyone with his witticism. "She knitted 'em herself. Wants me to write and let her know if they fits okay." He looked up, perplexed. "Now she knows I don't write letters much. Don't have much cause to."

"I'll help you," River said, smiling at him.

"'Kay," he grinned at her and tucked the socks back in the box.

Mal was flicking through the rest of the post. "And another letter for you, Jayne. Seems like you're the popular one today."

Jayne grabbed it. "It's from Simon," he said, tucking it into his pocket.

The young doctor looked up in surprise, then it registered. Jayne meant Simon Cobb, the boy back on Jiangyin who thought the mercenary was his father. And seemed proud of it too. This Simon's heart flipped a little as he saw River take Jayne's arm, but made himself smile.

"And how is the young man?" he asked.

"Let you know when I've read my letter," Jayne said. "But I'm sure he's shiny. Comes from good stock."

"Jayne, you do remember he ain't yours, don't you?" Mal teased.

"Yeah, but he don't know that."

"That's an interesting take on things," Simon admitted. "Does a belief that you know who your parents are make you like them?"

"I figure Inara'd be the one to ask that of, doc," Mal said. "What with her son being brought up by others. But since she ain't here, I've known a lot of bastards who fit right in, so it might just be the case."

"Mal," Freya said reprovingly, glancing at Ethan.

"What?"

"Language."

"What?"

"Ethan's going to be talking any day now, and I don't want him to hear too much too soon."

"You really think Ethan ain't gonna pick up language like that? Hell, look at Bethie," Mal grinned.

"Yes, but not as his first words."

Simon nodded, then remembered that Bethany's first words hadn't even been to him or Kaylee, but to Mal himself. And she called him Dada. He began plotting his revenge.

"I'll try and remember," Mal promised, leaning in to kiss his wife.

"Anything for me?" Kaylee asked, getting impatient.

Mal handed over two fat letters. "Looks to be from your folks too," he said, smiling.

"Ooh, yes." Kaylee backed away, holding them like prizes. "From my momma. She's sure to tell me all the news." She giggled. "And I bet there's a few recipes inside too."

Mal hid a smile. "Well, you got time to read 'em. Just got word our cargo's a mite late getting here, so we'll be around maybe another day."

"Oh, then we've got time to see the other levels," Kaylee said excitedly, clutching Simon's arm.

"Probably the same as this," Freya warned.

"Still, with Zoe looking after Bethany, you and me can get some fun in," the mechanic said, snuggling into her husband's embrace.

"It's all still cows," he said softly, smiling down at her.

"What is it with these _feng le _cows?" Jayne asked, puzzlement on his face.

River took his hand and led him away. "Come on, I want your help."

"'M I gonna end up carryin' something?"

"Probably."

"You know I still ain't fit …" His voice disappeared into the crowd.

"Cows?" Freya asked.

Simon smiled. "Foetuses, actually."

"Right." She nodded, as if that explained everything. Then she shook her head. "Anyway, I'm going shopping."

"What with?" Mal asked, hooking his arm around her waist and holding her close. Ethan smiled and patted at him.

"I've got a little money about my person," Freya admitted. "And Ethan needs some clothes."

"Ain't Kaylee got something you can use?"

"Mal, it may have escaped your notice, but you have a son. And Bethany is a girl."

"Really? I kinda wondered about that."

"And he needs some new things."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Mal sighed. "Okay then. But you come back with more than a few, there'll be words."

Freya grinned and kissed him. "You can always come and hold our hands."

"Me? Shopping for baby clothes?"

"You're not that much of a caveman," she whispered, pressing against him. "But I'll let you off this time."

"We'll come," Kaylee said quickly. "See what there is for Bethany."

"I thought you wanted to have some fun," Simon pointed out.

Kaylee looked at him as if he was an idiot. "Shopping _is_ fun," she said, then sighed. Men.

--

Zoe sat in the common area and watched Bethany set all her toys up for a tea party. She'd got out some mugs from the galley, and she was carefully arranging the plates on the table, putting her little head on one side and adjusting them minutely.

"One for Daddy," she said, patting the old rabbit she'd been given for a birthday present. "One for Momma." This time she touched a doll with bright yellow hair. "One for …" She stopped.

"What is it, honey?" Zoe asked.

"One for the baby, but my momma can't have no more," Bethany said quietly, lifting her Ethan doll into place at the head of the table.

"Did she tell you that?"

The little girl nodded. "I wanted a brother, but she said no."

"Did she say why?"

"Daddy's sick."

Zoe took her arm and turned her gently so that she could look at her. Once more she was struck by the resemblance to Kaylee, but the seriousness in her eyes was all Simon. "That ain't so, Bethany. Your daddy ain't sick. He was, but he got better. It's just he can't … give you a brother."

"Does he still love her?" she asked, her voice very small. "Only Uncle Jayne said when a man loves a lady, he plants a seed –"

"Your daddy loves your momma very much," Zoe said firmly. "And not everyone wants to have children, even if they love each other."

"You and Uncle Hank do."

"Yes, that we do."

"He's planted a seed."

Zoe took a deep breath. "Yes, he has."

"Can he be my brother too? Like Ethan?" She looked at Zoe, her eyes big and ingenuous.

"Bethany, have you been peeking?"

The little girl scuffed her shoe on the decking. "Little bit."

"Didn't Uncle Jayne say that was wrong?"

"'es."

"Didn't Auntie Frey say that was wrong?"

"'s."

"Didn't Uncle Mal say that was wrong?"

The little girl just nodded. "Sorry, Auntie Zoe," she whispered.

"Okay." She sighed. "Just don't tell anyone."

"'Kay." Bethany grinned, aware she'd been let off with just a warning this time, and turned back to her toys. "Is Uncle Jayne going to plant a seed in Auntie River?" she asked, moving one of the plates half an inch.

Zoe closed her eyes. The sooner Freya got to work, the better.

--

"You want both of 'em?" Jayne asked, eyeing the large lamps with disgust. "Looks like they ain't been cleaned in a while. Like, ever." Dust was piled on dirt, and cobwebs moved gently in the breeze.

"They're the right kind," River explained. "Daylights. Otherwise the plants won't grow properly."

"Well …" He lifted one of the price tags. "Hell, they ain't worth half that." He straightened up, pushing his shoulders back. "Let's see what kinda deal I can get."

"I want them, Jayne."

"You'll get 'em, moonbrain. Just not for that money." He squared up and headed for the counter.

River smiled and wandered out of the shop, content to let him intimidate the owner and get the lamps she wanted for a good price. She went and leaned the railing, looking out from the mezzanine over the crowds. She felt Mal walk up and stand next to her.

"Albatross."

"Captain."

They stood companionably on the walkway, watching life hurry by below.

"So."

"So."

Mal looked at the young woman. "Frey tells me –"

"I know it was wrong."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'd ask how you know what I was about to say, but I figure I can guess. And I thought it was only Bethany had trouble with peeking."

"I don't have any trouble, captain," River said, not looking at him. "I can see fine."

"Then you know my concerns."

"I killed them. For what they would do. Not for what they had done. And I know that was wrong." Her dark hair had swung forward, obscuring her face, but her voice was serious.

"Do you?"

She turned, and her dark eyes captured his. "I won't ever hurt anyone on board, captain."

"That ain't the question." He stepped closer and took her arm. "River, I ain't saying none of us have ever killed in anger, 'cause that would be a lie. But what you did was in cold blood. And that makes it murder."

"Why is there a difference?"

"Because there is. River, honey, all through the war I killed people. I ain't proud of it, but it was war. Point is, I never murdered them. I didn't go out with the intention of taking lives. You did."

"They were going to –"

"I know what they were going to do, little one. But they'd been stopped. Simon and Hank had stopped them."

"I know." Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I do understand, Mal. I do. And I'm sorry. I know that's why Freya doesn't want me to teach Bethany, in case I fill her brain with those intentions."

"It ain't quite like that, albatross. She just thinks you need to practise a bit more. Do it together."

"She doesn't hate me?"

Mal couldn't help it. He pulled the girl into his arms, hugging her tightly. "She doesn't hate you, River. She loves you like you were her own."

River sighed and revelled in the physical contact, breathing deep of the leather scent that hung around him even when he wasn't wearing his brown coat. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Okay. Good." He let her go, just holding her gently by the arms, rubbing up and down. "Don't do it again."

"I won't."

"Good." Mal smiled at her. "'N' if you'd'a brought up Wing, just remember you ain't too big to be put over my knee and spanked."

"I don't think Jayne would like that," River pointed out.

Mal laughed. "Maybe not." He let go and turned to look out over the crowds below again. "That's a nice necklace," he said, relaxing back into his normal persona.

River fingered the silver locket hanging at her neck. "Inara gave it to me. When we said goodbye."

"Didn't think you had."

"You don't know everything, captain."

"I've kinda come around to that conclusion, yeah."

_River was curled up against Inara, on the newly reconstructed bed. She didn't feel like a grown woman right now, more the broken girl who had climbed from the cryobox and been comforted._

"_It'll be all right, sweetheart," Inara promised. "I'll always be here for when you need me."_

"_I need you now."_

"_River, you're growing up. Maybe it took a little longer than usual, but …" She lifted the girl's chin to look into her dark eyes. "You're a beautiful young lady, River. And I know you can cope with life."_

"_Had to."_

"_Except that you're not on your own now. You've got all of us, even me, and I'm not going to let you forget that."_

_River smiled a little. "I've got Jayne too."_

_Inara stroked her back. "Be gentle with him," she advised. "He's only a man, and sometimes men find it difficult to understand us."_

"_Jayne loves me."_

"_Oh, of that I don't doubt. But remember that he's also Jayne – he's not used to being nice."_

"_Everyone says that, but I see the real Jayne. And he's trying very hard."_

"_Just don't be surprised when he does something really stupid. All men do."_

"_Oh, I know." River grinned. "Simon still does with Kaylee. Even the captain –"_

"_Yes, well, no-one ever accused that man of having much in the way of sense. And don't look at me like that, River. You know it's only the women on board who've kept him alive this long."_

"_Freya loves him too."_

"_And I hope he keeps her happy."_

"_I'll make sure he does." Her serious tone was offset by the laughter in her eyes._

"What's so funny?" Mal asked.

"Nothing." She fingered the locket. "Where's Freya?"

"Getting Ethan some new clothes. Didn't know she had the cash spare, but … why?"

"Oh, nothing." She smiled again.

"Gorramit, these things are heavy," Jayne groaned, coming out of the shop behind them. "Aw, Mal, take one of 'em, will you, 'fore I drop 'em both and lose all my money's worth."

Mal smiled and took one of the lamps, noting the dust being transferred to him immediately. "What the _diyu_ do you want these for, Jayne?"

"Ain't mine," the big man said, nodding towards River. "They're hers."

Mal looked at the girl. "Then the same question applies."

"They're for my garden. On board Serenity."

"Look, I ain't said you can do that yet."

"It will be good for me. Therapy. Keep me on the straight and narrow." She fixed him with her eyes again.

He sighed. "Yeah, but do they have to be so rutting heavy?"

--

"They are so cute," Kaylee said, bubbling away as they headed back to the docking area. "I just can't get over how pretty he's gonna be in 'em."

"He's a boy, sweetheart," Simon said, carrying Ethan for Freya. "He can't look pretty."

"You do."

"I don't."

"Yes you do. When you're asleep. Your hair all mussed, and your chest all –"

"Please," Freya said quickly. "I've only just eaten."

Kaylee giggled, then waved at Zoe who was standing by the open cargo bay doors. She was scanning the crowd as they approached. Her face had its usual stoic expression, but anyone who knew her could see she was concerned.

"Are you okay?" Freya asked, the hair on the back of her neck beginning to stand on end.

"Anyone seen Hank?" Zoe asked.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hank?" Kaylee looked around. "Thought he went shopping too."

"He did," Zoe said, looking past them, her eyes still skipping through the crowds. "He's late."

"He probably just got caught up, looking for something nice for you," Simon assured her. "Is Bethany okay?"

Zoe nodded distractedly. "She's napping."

Freya turned and looked out at the people passing by. "You're thinking something's wrong."

"Just got a feeling …" Zoe admitted.

Mal, Jayne and River materialised, the former carrying what looked like metal stanchions.

"Mal, have you seen Hank?" Freya asked, her head lifting as if she was scenting the air.

"Nope. Why?" Serenity's captain put down the lamp he was carrying with a relieved sigh. "He finally decided he's had enough of us and skipped?" He smiled, but it faltered as he caught the look on Zoe's face.

"I don't think so, sir," she murmured, still searching.

--

Hank forced his eyes open and grimaced. Damn, but that light was bright.

"Just lie still," a voice close to him said.

He tried to turn his head, but the sudden pain in it made him sweat.

"She told you to lie still." A man this time, from the other side.

Hank was only too happy to oblige. "Where …?" he managed to say, his voice cracking and dry.

"You're in the sickbay. Do you remember what happened?"

"Sickbay?"

"On Wayborn. You were brought here. Someone found you."

"What?"

"You were attacked. On one of the lower levels. Do you remember?"

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He'd docked Serenity, he remembered that. Then changed quickly and gone looking for … His eyes sprang open. "Three men," he croaked. "Came at me. Hit me."

"You were mugged. It's been happening a lot here lately, but the Alliance are cracking down. You were lucky, though."

"Lucky?" Hank felt various aches and pains reporting themselves. "That what you call it?"

"Some people interrupted it. Brought you here." There was movement at the periphery of his vision but he couldn't tell what it was. "Is there anyone you'd like us to contact? Your ship?"

The image of his beautiful Zoe sprang into his mind. "How long have I been here?"

"About four hours."

She would be mad. He'd said he was only going to be an hour, at the most. "My … Zoe. She's on board Serenity. A Firefly."

A figure swam into view, a nurse from the outfit, and Hank tried to focus on her. "We'll get her for you."

"Am I okay?" he asked.

"It's just concussion. Nothing else."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

He thought she was smiling but couldn't be sure. "That's good."

"You must have fought back," the nurse went on, settling the blanket around him comfortably. "Your hands are somewhat grazed, and you still had your money on you."

"That's good." Hank was more than happy to hear that. Zoe would never forgive him if he lost some of the Magdalene coin.

"Why don't you try and get some rest? As soon as she gets here, we'll bring her in."

He nodded, then wished he hadn't as pain flared again behind his eyes to war with the rest of his body. "Good idea," he said.

"Oh, just one other thing. You didn't seem to have any Ident on you. What's your name?"

"Hank. Hank Mills."

He didn't see the look that passed between the nurse and the doctor.

"That's fine," the nurse said. "Now, just close your eyes and try to get some sleep."

"Whatever you say."

--

Mal was organising a search party when a young man in an official looking uniform paused on the concourse outside Serenity. He glanced at the ship, then at the docking information. He approached the group of people.

"Mr Reynolds?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

"I'm Captain Reynolds." Mal turned to look at him.

"I'm from the Skyplex management. There's a man in our sickbay says he's come off your ship."

Zoe stepped quickly forwards. "Hank?"

"I believe it is a Mr Hank Mills, yes."

"Is he hurt?"

"I don't have that information. But if you'd care to come with me …"

Zoe was already starting to move.

"Best show us the way, son," Mal said.

--

"He'll be fine," the administrator said. "The concussion's wearing off, and he hasn't broken anything. Just a few bruises."

Mal could feel his first mate relax a little, and heard relieved sighs from the rest of his crew behind him. "That's good. Can our medic take a look at him? Just as a second opinion?"

Simon began to step forward, but the administrator shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid that … Mr Mills may be recovering nicely, but there is another problem."

"Problem?"

"He admits his name is Hank Mills, which is what the DNA tracer says. However, our records also state that Hank Mills died on Praxis during the war. And as you can see, this man is very much alive."

"Records can be wrong," Mal said, crossing his arms.

"Not the Alliance."

"You think?" He smiled. "And during the war, ain't no way of knowing which corpse is which, state some of 'em were in." The smile faded. "All you need to know is that he's my pilot, and I'd kinda like him back."

"It's not as easy as that," the administrator said. "His DNA also brought up an Alliance flag. He's wanted for questioning with regards to a recent crime."

Mal swiftly went through every job they'd pulled lately. "How recent?"

"Very. A murder."

"Murder?" Mal's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hair. "Hank?"

"Two, in fact. On Ibis."

Mal felt Zoe stiffen next to him, and his own belly tightened. "Ibis?"

"I don't have all the details, but he's in custody awaiting the arrival of Federal officers."

"Look, I don't know what you think he is, but he ain't a killer."

"That is beside the point. His DNA has been identified at the site of a crime, and he has to be questioned."

Mal held his anger in check, pushing it back into his gut. "When?"

"Well, our own officers are due back from a call tomorrow, so they'll interview him then. If they think he has something to answer, he'll be taken back to Ibis."

Zoe was about to speak, to quite possibly make matters worse. Mal got in first. "Can we see him?"

The man looked at them all. "One of you only. And you leave the gun outside."

"Okay." Mal was about to undo his gunbelt, then glanced at Zoe. "Give me your gun," he said, holding out his hand.

"Sir …"

"You go in. Make sure he's okay." She was going to argue, he could feel it, that he was the captain and should see to his crew, and he smiled at her, just a curve of his lips. "We ain't going anywhere, Zo. We'll work this out."

--

The door opened, and Hank turned his head to look. "Zoe!" He was so pleased to see her he tried to push himself into a sitting position, then groaned as his ribs ached.

She was at his side immediately, her strong arm holding him as she rearranged the pillows behind him. "Can't you do anything without getting into trouble?" she asked, settling him back.

"I'm fine, honey," he said, his face a picture of happiness. "'Specially now I can see you."

"What were you doing on that level?" She sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's away from everything."

He looked shame-faced. "I was … truth is I was looking for something specific. Something I … I wanted to buy for you."

"For me."

"Yeah. Something … see, back on my home world, there's a bracelet you give to the woman you're gonna … well, who's having your baby."

"The woman you're going to … what, Hank? Marry?"

He suddenly found his hands really interesting. "Maybe."

"And you were going to buy this bracelet for who?"

"Well, that was … sorta … gonna be you."

"I see."

He looked up at her. "Only I wasn't gonna ask. I mean, I was, but not yet. You've not said anything but what with the looks I've been getting from Mal occasionally, I just thought … it was only gonna be a gift, Zoe." His eyes were pained, almost pleading.

"Okay. A gift I would accept."

The pain flashed to gratefulness. "Great."

"But I'm not marrying you."

The light in his eyes dimmed a little. "Well, we can discuss that."

She ignored the comment. "But that doesn't explain why you were down on that level."

"I'd been in all the jewellery places, with no luck, but I guess someone heard me asking, and they came up to me, told me about a place … down … there …"

"Mmn."

"It was them, wasn't it?"

"I think it probably was."

"Oh."

"You were damned lucky, Hank. They coulda just shot you, or knifed you … they didn't have to just beat up on you."

"Just?" he yelped. "I am gonna have bruises the size of –"

"You could be dead."

"Okay. I'm an idiot. I accept that." He put his head back. "Zo, I think my money's in that drawer." He pointed towards the small cabinet next to the door. "Can you take it back to Serenity? Not that I don't trust people, but … I don't want it pinched."

"Sure." She stood up, crossing to the unit and opening the drawer. Sure enough, inside was a small wedge of notes.

"And I'm sorry."

She turned to look at him. "What for?"

"Nearly losing the cash. I know you'd've been angry if –" He stopped in astonishment as she glared at him. "What?"

"You think I care more about this than … than you?" Her dark eyes were flaming with intensity.

"No, but I –"

"Hank, if anything had happened to you …" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "You don't know me at all, do you?"

"No, it's just –"

She sat back down on the edge of the bed, running her hand through his untidy hair. "Hank, when I thought something had happened to you, it was _you_ that I was worried about. Not the _yuh bun duh_ money."

"Oh." He sat back. Then a smile formed on his face. "Oh."

"You _are_ an idiot," she said softly.

"Yeah, well, that kinda goes with the territory." The smile faded. "Still, if what the administrator said is true, and I'm about to become a guest of the Alliance, you may have to do a bit more of that worrying."

"We won't let that happen."

"We?"

"_I_ won't."

He sighed happily. "Then that makes it okay, then."

--

Donaldson watched as Niska's men dragged the remains of the girl out, leaving a blood trail across the floor. He'd never seen anything so barbaric, so violent, having had to look away for most of the time. And when the man had turned his rage and hate-filled face on them, throwing himself at the window in an attempt to get to them, he had stepped back, and he knew his dreams were going to be filled with the sight of that mouth yelling at them, blood and flesh still clinging to his cheeks. It had taken more than a dozen shots to take him down.

Niska, on the other hand, had watched the proceedings with apparent enjoyment, almost admiration. He tutted, though, as the man had finally used a scalpel to slice her throat.

"Still no control," he murmured. "Is still too strong." He clicked his fingers and motioned for another man to start cleaning up. "The brainwave emissions … you are sure they are correct?"

Donaldson nodded, clearing his throat, seeing himself reflected in Niska's round glasses, and wondering if he normally looked that pale. "The recordings are accurate. All our research suggests that it should calm them down, make them biddable."

"Perhaps your subject is not suitable."

"Oh, she's the real deal." Donaldson wiped his face on his handkerchief and thrust it back into his pocket. "With her pedigree she has to be."

"Then if I were able to see her for myself, use her first hand, as you say …"

Donaldson shook his head. "Sorry. That just isn't possible. If there's even the slightest risk of our activities coming to light, there would be questions raised at the highest level. You'll have to make do with the recordings."

Niska shrugged and picked up a small glass vial from the box on the control desk. A thick clear liquid moved lazily inside, while half a dozen tiny green chips floated within. "Is hard to believe, yes? I drop this, and the air outside reacts with the substance inside … Enough to wipe out half a world."

Donaldson licked his lips but held his ground. "You're not going to get her, Niska, no matter what you say. I know you think you'd be more likely to succeed, but what if there was an accident? Can you imagine what would happen if she became exposed to this stuff? Not just a Reaver, but a superReaver? If she could control them all, direct them to her will?"

"Is not what you want?"

"And risk the whole project?" Donaldson shook his head. "No way. Just isn't going to happen."

"As you wish." He placed the vial back in the case next to the three empty spaces. "And I am not so stupid as to risk myself, Mr Donaldson." He smiled. "But we must reduce the quantity even more. In order to –"

One of Donaldson's men approached them, handing his boss a note. As he read it, Donaldson smiled. "Well, here's an interesting thing. They've caught one of the men who killed my suppliers."

"One of?"

"Oh, I think there was more than one. They were too good. At least, usually." He waved the note. "Seems he's the pilot of a ship called Serenity, that's docked –"

Niska's head jerked up. "Is Malcolm Reynold's ship?"

"That's what it says. Why?"

"And this man, he works for him."

Donaldson's brow furrowed. "Do you know him?"

"Captain Reynolds is, how shall I say, an old friend." This time, when he smiled, the 'uncle' persona slipped a little. "This man. This pilot. Bring him to me. I think he should help our little experiment. Yes?"


	4. Chapter 4

"How'd they get Hank's DNA?" Kaylee asked. "They are talking about those two men who … the ones that …"

"I figure they are, little Kaylee," Mal said. "Ain't been on Ibis for more'n a year before that, and it ain't like Zoe's let my pilot that much out of her sight that he could wander that far."

They were all sitting around the table in the dining area, food uneaten in front of them.

"But Simon was the one with the messed up hands." She looked at her husband.

"DNA can come from anything," he said, shaking his head. "I'm surprised they don't have mine too."

"Maybe they do, doc," Mal said. "But we're not gonna put you in the position of finding out."

"So, what?" Jayne asked. "We break in and get Hank back?"

"Are you suggesting an armed raid on a hospital?" Simon said, staring in disbelief at the big mercenary.

Jayne shrugged. "Just an idea. And it wouldn't take more'n a couple of us to carry it out. Hell, I could do it by myself."

"It's a stupid suggestion." The young doctor shook his head. "Do you have any idea of the number of security cameras they're likely to have?"

"Oh, no, sorry, doc, I ain't never committed a crime before," Jayne said sarcastically. "Ripped off that hospital on Ariel, didn't we?"

"Yes, and look where that got us."

Jayne started to get up, to show the man exactly what he thought of that comment, but River put her hand on his arm. "No," she murmured, and he subsided.

"Is this going to be the way of things now?" Simon asked bitterly. "You're going to side with him even when you know I'm right?"

River looked at him. "You're both right," she said, her voice low. "And wrong."

"River, honey, that don't make sense," Kaylee said, anxious to defuse the situation, even if it was by putting herself in the line of fire.

"We could walk in and take him, but we would be seen."

"But we can't let the Alliance have him."

"No." River sighed. "Not for something he didn't do." She looked at her brother, then at Mal. "I think I may have to confess."

"What?" Simon stared at her. "Confess what?"

River was about to explain, but Mal got in first. "You ain't gonna tell no-one anything, albatross. You think they'd believe a little thing like you could do that?"

"I could show them."

"Yeah, good idea. You do that. And after they've realised who you are and carted you off back to that Academy, Hank'll still be in jail and your brother off his head with worry. Again. You really think Hank'd consider that good planning?"

Simon looked from one to the other. "What's going on?" he asked, his throat constricting.

"Nothing, doctor. Just considering options," Mal said firmly.

"That's a lie." He saw Mal bristle, but went on, "You decide to break the news that Bethany's a reader in front of everyone, when you should have told me and Kaylee first, but you won't tell me what this is about?"

"Bethie's family. It had to be dealt with. And everyone needed to know." Mal was obstinate.

"Well, I need to know this."

"Simon –"

Mal interrupted the young psychic. "No."

"My God," Simon whispered. "It was her. It was River, wasn't it?" His normally pale face was white.

"Simon?" Kaylee asked, grabbing his hand. "Are you saying …?"

River got up from the table. "I was wrong. I know I was wrong. And I'm sorry."

"You _murdered_ them?"

"Doc, it's been dealt with," Mal said quickly. "Frey's gonna work on her self control a bit harder, but there's nothing to be gained from –"

"She killed those men and you say it's been dealt with?"

"She ain't gonna do it again," Jayne put in.

"Wha …" Simon could barely speak. "You knew about this?"

"Course. She told me."

The young man looked accusingly around the table. "Did you all know?"

"I didn't," Zoe said, her first words in the entire conversation. "And I'm sure Hank didn't either." She looked at Mal. She knew he didn't tell her everything, but this …

"Wasn't any point, Zo," Mal said quietly. "What with everything else going on, I figured it was best left a secret." He saw the expression on her face. "Guess maybe I was wrong."

Kaylee turned to her captain. "So when you said they wouldn't be doin' that again …"

Mal nodded slowly. "Sorry, _mei-mei_. But it was true. I just maybe didn't explain why."

The young mechanic swallowed. "Well … I'm glad. Not that River did it, but that they're … they're dead. They won't take any more girls like that."

"Kaylee …" Simon stared at his wife.

"They'd'a sold me, Simon. To someone who'd'a butchered me. You think they didn't deserve to die?"

"But –"

"No buts." Kaylee stood up and crossed the room to stand next to River. "It wasn't right what she did, and for sure not the way she did it, but I ain't gonna say I'm sorry they're dead." She took the girl's hand and they walked out together.

Simon sat with his mouth open.

"Don't blame your sis," Jayne said softly. "You wanna blame someone, blame them _hwoon dahns_ who cut into her brain. Turned her into someone who could do that."

"I don't blame River," Simon retorted. "But no-one said –"

"Would it have made any difference if we had?" Freya asked, having listened to the argument, feeling it break on her like waves on a shore. "Like Mal said, it's been dealt with."

"But she's my sister!"

"And Kaylee's your wife. River did what she thought was best because of Kaylee. Now she knows better. Just leave it at that."

"How can I?" He shook his head. "Maybe I should try different medications –"

"You do and she'll prob'ly rip your head off," Jayne growled. "Ain't nothing wrong with that girl. 'Part from being crazy, that is. You just let us deal with it."

"Deal? The only way this crew deals with anything is by violence and ignoring what they don't want to see!"

Mal had had enough. The headache that had been festering ever since they'd heard about Hank was threatening to explode right out of his temple, and now this bickering … "_Bizui_!" His voice cut through the argument. "What it is, is what it is. River's learned a valuable lesson from this, and now you all know. This ain't exactly helping me form a plan to get Hank back." Everyone at the table looked at him, and he felt Freya's hand in his, squeezing his fingers gently. He breathed deeply.

"It's just –"

"Just nothing, doctor." Mal smiled just a little. "As much as I'd kinda like to see Jayne go in guns blazing, it ain't gonna happen. So we need something a little more subtle if we're gonna extricate my pilot from this bit of mess he's got himself into." He gazed at Simon. "And if you ain't got anything to add to the discussion – that ain't about what River did – then I suggest you go look to your wife. Somehow, I don't get the impression she wants to be on her own right now."

"You know her better than I do, do you?"

"Right now, yeah, I figure maybe I do."

Simon glared at him, then reason began to re-establish itself in his brain, and he stood up. "Perhaps you're right, captain." He walked out, his head high, his posture ram-rod straight.

"Do you have a plan?" Zoe asked into the ensuing quiet.

"So far, the best option seems to be him just walking out." Mal sighed. "It ain't like they're gonna shoot us."

"But they do have security."

"Then maybe we can …" Mal threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know, Zo. Maybe we should storm the place." He ran his hands through his hair. "Why don't you go take a look see? They let you in before, should do again. See if there's a way we can sneak him out."

His first mate nodded and stood up. "Yes sir." She left the galley.

"Think I'll go check on River," Jayne muttered to himself, sauntering the other way.

Freya gazed into her husband's eyes. "They're antsy, Mal. Not having Inara here, it's kinda thrown things."

"I wasn't the one wanted her to go in the first place." He put his hands behind his head, looking up into the pipes and beams above.

"It just feels strange."

"They got used to it before." He sighed. "What is it about us, Frey?"

"Us?"

"This boat." He turned his head so he could see her, the short brown hair framing her face. "Sometimes it feels like we're a magnet for trouble."

Her lips twitched. "You only just figured that out?"

--

"I don't understand." The administrator looked at the two men. "Our own Federal officers will be back tomorrow. Why should you want to take him now?"

"All of our papers are in order."

"Yes, I can see that. But –"

"This man is a wanted felon. His partners are smugglers and murderers. They're probably planning a way to get him away from here right now. Do you want to be in the middle of it when they do?"

The administrator swallowed. "You really think –"

"I'm not thinking anything. We have orders to take Hank Mills into custody. And that's what we're going to do."

"Well, if you really think you can't wait until tomorrow …" He watched unhappily as the two men walked down the corridor towards the wanted man's room.


	5. Chapter 5

"Look, I didn't do it," Hank said as he walked between the two men who'd come for him, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"That isn't a problem," one said.

"It's not?" Hank felt a surge of hope.

"Not for us. For you, maybe."

"I don't –"

"We don't make the decisions, Mr Mills. All we were told to do is come and pick you up."

"I just thought, if you knew, you might –"

"No."

Hank sighed.

The administrator hadn't been keen on the cuffs. "This man's just recovering from concussion. Are those really necessary?"

"Protocol." He tightened them a little further. "Don't want him running off on us, do we?"

"I'm sure he won't be any trouble."

"Of course not. Murderers never are."

The administrator found a little backbone. "Every man is innocent until proven guilty, though, isn't he? Even under Alliance law."

The man took a step forwards. "That makes it sound like you don't approve of Alliance law. Perhaps we should take a look at you. There might be something you don't want us to find."

He shook his head. "No, no, of course not. And if it's protocol …" He shot Hank a regretful look.

"Ain't your fault," Hank said, wincing as the cuffs bit into his wrists. "But thanks for your hospitality." He looked at the two men. "Can I call my ship? Tell 'em where I'm going?"

"Soon as we get you back to the station." The first man pushed him, making Hank take a sharp breath from the bruises he still had. "Get moving."

Hank had to comply, and now they were walking down a dark corridor, lined with discarded cargo containers.

"I really didn't kill anyone on Ibis," he said, glancing from one to the other. "I hate violence. It does something to me, makes my stomach …" He stopped talking for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute. This isn't the way to the Fed -"

They grabbed his arms, but he fought back, just as he had the men who tried to take his coin. Only this time he was realising they were after something far more precious. He managed to kick one of them, who let go with a yell, giving him the chance to attempt to headbutt the other, but his opponent was too fast. Stepping out of the way the man let Hank's own momentum carry him forward, slamming him face first into a stack of heavy crates, unable to stop himself.

As he felt the skin above his left eye part and darkness come slipping in, his thoughts first flashed to a disbelief that this was happening for the second time, then on to hoping that someone might have heard. Finally, as he slid to the floor, his last conscious notion was of Zoe.

--

Zoe strode to the desk. "I want to see Hank Mills."

The nurse took one look at her, the apparent stoicism of her face warring with the determination in her eyes, and punched the call button for the administrator, who hurried out of a side office.

"Ah, Miss …" He hadn't caught her full name the last time.

"I want to see Hank Mills," Zoe repeated.

"He's … he's not here."

Zoe glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't they call you?"

"Who?"

"The two men who came to collect him. They said they'd let you know as soon as they got back to the station. I assumed they meant our local office on the second level." He smiled but this Amazon didn't respond. If anything, her gaze got colder.

"Who were they?"

"Alliance Federals. They'd been sent to pick him up and await transport to Ibis."

"You said -"

He held up a hand. "I know. But they had orders."

"What orders? Who from?"

The administrator considered telling her that it was none of her business, but decided that he actually rather liked living, and she looked like she could stop that right here. "Let me check." He stepped behind the desk, the nurse moving out of the way so he could get to the computer terminal. He raced his fingers over the controls, stopped and stared, then ran the commands again.

"What is it?"

"I … I don't understand," the administrator stammered. "The records … I can't find them."

"Can't find them." Zoe pushed him to one side, checking the screen for herself.

"There's no mention of a Hank Mills being brought in at all. Not even the DNA flag." He rolled his hands around each other. "I don't know what's happened here."

Zoe stood up and glared at him. "So who took him?"

"Two men. Their paperwork was all in order. They said –"

"Where is this paperwork?"

"They … they didn't leave it. We had all the necessary documentation on the system …" He glanced down at the screen, almost praying for it to appear, waving its fingers and saying it had only been hiding.

"How long ago did they take him?"

The administrator glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "It was shortly after you left," he admitted. "Five, perhaps six hours ago."

"Six hours …" Zoe turned on her heel and ran out of the sickbay.

The nurse looked at the administrator. "What's going on?" she asked.

He stared after the departing warrior woman. "I think it's best we don't know. We forget all about this."

"But -"

"I said to forget about it!" He glared at her then stamped back towards his office and the bottle of whisky he kept hidden in his bottom drawer.

--

"Was he okay to be moved?" Mal asked Simon.

"The concussion was minor, and the rest … I wouldn't have kept him in the infirmary."

"Then at least he's gonna be on his own two feet. That's something." Mal stared into nothing. "But if these guys weren't Alliance, then they wanted him for something else, and that don't make me feel all kindsa warm."

"Do you think that's why they wiped the computer core?" Freya asked.

"Don't see no other reason than to wipe out their tracks. If they were Feds, it wouldn't matter."

"But why would anyone other than the Alliance want Hank?" Kaylee, scared for her friend, was also indignant. "And go to all this trouble."

"People disappear every day," her husband said, putting his arm around her. "A lot by choice."

"I know that. But it wouldn't be easy to hack the Cortex, wipe out all records of him. It'd take someone who really knew what they were doing."

"Someone with a real yen for that man …" Mal felt his skin begin to crawl. Something really bad was going down, and he hated not knowing what it was.

"I say we search," Jayne put in, settling his gunbelt more securely. "He ain't in the Fed station but he might still be around."

"Do you _know_ how many ships are docked right now?" Zoe asked.

"Twenty-seven," River put in. "But some of those are too small for more than two people or arrived less than five hours ago."

"How many left, albatross?" Mal asked.

"Nineteen."

"Right. Okay, Jayne and Zoe, check the ships. Simon, you and Kaylee take a look around the top levels, me and Frey'll take the lower."

"And me?" River asked, stirring on her chair.

"You take a look at the Cortex, see if you can figure out what they did. If you can't, see what ships've left here recently. If he's been kidnapped, ain't no reason for him to still be here that I can see."

"But we're still gonna look?" Jayne asked from the doorway.

"Still gonna look."

--

Hank could hear a noise. Some kind of tapping mixed in with the normal sounds of Serenity's engine. Have to remember to mention it to Kaylee, he told himself. Might be something working loose that she needed to fix. He went to turn over in bed. Only he wasn't in bed. And that sound wasn't Serenity.

He forced his eyes open.

"Ah, you are back with us."

Focusing was still hard, but he managed it. "What … who are you?" he asked, seeing an elderly man standing in front of him, a beneficent smile on his face.

"I am Adelai Niska. You have perhaps heard of me?"

Hank swallowed, and realised he was strapped to some kind of metal stand, his wrists and lower body held firmly. "I … the name rings a bell."

"Good, good. You have wit. Unfortunately, when I am finished, you will have nothing else." He beckoned to a man standing in the shadows, and Hank blinked a sudden cold sweat out of his eyes.

--

He'd heard about Mal and the late Wash's run-in with Niska. How he'd tortured them, then when Zoe had bought her husband back, how he'd really gone to work on Mal. But it had always been a distant thing, a story, even when one day he'd noticed the scar still visible in places around Mal's ear. It was only a _story_.

He wished it still was.

What was it about screaming? All the books he'd read had made it clear a man doesn't scream, he bites it back, holds it inside, no matter what the bad guy does to him. How totally and utterly ridiculous that seemed now.

His scream echoed back to him as the electricity coursed through his body again. As it stopped, he slumped in the restraints.

How had they done this? How had Mal and Wash survived? They had to have been so much stronger than this, so much more of a man than he was.

He hovered on the verge of unconsciousness.

No matter what he said, what he did, he was a coward, and this just proved it. Barely damaged him, and already he couldn't take it.

"Course you can." A voice at the edge of his hearing. "And it ain't about being a coward."

Hank struggled to open his eyes, but he couldn't see anyone. Niska was talking quietly to his man, apparently discussing what tool to try out on him next. They were taking no notice of the new person in the room. "Who …" He tried to speak but his throat wouldn't work properly.

"This is torture, not a tea party." A man came round into his vision.

Hank blinked hard, trying to clear the sweat and blood from the cut that kept re-opening above his eye. The newcomer was blond, an odd unfinished look to his face, and wearing a Hawaiian shirt that should have been illegal. "Not a …" Suddenly he knew who it was, and realised that he must have gone insane.

Wash patted him on the shoulder, and he didn't even feel it.

"You take it. Can't do nothing less. And you don't die, or Zoe'll never forgive you." Mal's old pilot looked him up and down, then shrugged.

"Forgive … me?" Hank ground out, and the other men looked at him strangely.

"Though as you're actually the father of my lambie-toes' child, guess maybe she might."

Niska held out his hand, taking something and standing in front of the pilot. He reached forward, and agony burst through his chest as his skin parted over his ribs.

"Is forgiveness you wish?" Niska asked. "But of course forgiveness only comes with penance. And with penance comes pain. Many days."

"Breathe slowly, Hank," Wash advised.

"How?" He was panting now, more cuts joining the first.

"How?" Niska repeated. "In this way."

But Hank wasn't listening to him.

"Because there's gonna be more to come. You can do this. Get through it." Wash shook his head. "Just concentrate on your son. What he's gonna look like. How he'll only be the first. See Zoe in your mind, all beautiful and majestic, like a ship in full sail."

Hank almost laughed but he couldn't even speak through the haze. "Kinda like the idea of that."

"Hold onto it."

Niska slid the knife a little deeper.

"How did Freya survive what Wing did to her?" Hank asked silently, tears of pain and frustration running down his cheeks.

"You just do. That's the point of the whole thing," Wash said, leaning on the metal tripod. "People get you through it."

"Like you're getting me?"

"I ain't even here, Hank."

--

"Nothing, Mal," Jayne said, jumping up the stairs to the bridge. "Went through all the ships that coulda had him, but there's no sign."

"No."

"Us neither," Kaylee said softly.

"He ain't here, Mal." Jayne glared out at the Skyplex. "He's been taken off already."

"I've checked all the departures, and this is the only one that fits." River tapped the screen then looked up at Mal. "The Orchid, a mid-size transport registered to the Cain Corporation. She left Wayborn immediately after Hank was taken, and her manifest says she's bound for Boros, but …"

"Yeah, manifest and actual destination sometimes don't tally. Done the same thing myself." Mal studied the information. "A Caudal. Not too fast, can't outrun us, but she's armed."

"Two fifty millimetre cannons," River agreed.

"And if Hank's on board?" Simon asked, standing with his arm around Kaylee. "Can we take them?"

Mal shook his head. "They'd knock us outta the sky before we could even get close."

"Then what do we do?" Kaylee asked.

"We follow." He looked down at River. "Can you plot us a course where we know where they are but it don't look like we're dogging 'em?"

"Yes, captain."

"Mal, I'm not so sure about this," Freya said, leaning against the bulkhead, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Not sure about what?" Mal looked at her. "You got some better idea of where he is?"

She shook her head. "I can't feel him, if that's what you mean. I just … I don't think he's on board that ship."

"But you don't have any better ideas." Mal gazed at her. He trusted her hunches, her instincts, more than she did some of the time, but right now … "I don't think we got a choice. If we stay any longer we're gonna lose 'em, and if Hank _is_ on board …" He looked back at River. "You got any feelings on the matter, albatross?"

She shook her head regretfully. "I can't feel him either."

Zoe closed her eyes.

"Then do it. Get us off this heap of metal."

"Already gone." She turned back to the console and her hands flew across the controls.

--

As he jerked in the restraints, his mind went back over his life. Not a good sign, he considered.

"That's only when you're drowning," Wash said.

"Doesn't it count when you're drowning in pain?" Hank thought as something bit into his side, twisting and turning as it burrowed under his skin. He tried not to faint.

"Hold on."

"That's easy for you to say." The burrowing went deeper, and he was sure it was going to come out the other side.

"Hold on, fly boy."

Hank's mind skittered away from what they were doing to him, and brought up images of his past. A birthday party, when his parents gave him his first toy spaceship. Meeting Risa, the way she laughed at his terrible jokes, then how they danced all night at the harvest social. Their wedding. She looked so beautiful, and he was so proud of her.

First day at flight school, falling in love with the books and the blueprints, then going home to make love to his wife after she'd sat through an hour of him waxing on about it. He tried not to look at the picture of her lying on their bed, her eyes staring sightlessly into the ceiling, the way he'd gone numb when he realised he would never hold her again. Being in the Alliance army, waiting for someone to kill him, before realising he didn't want to die.

Working passage on the Gerontius, then the Diamede, finally stepping on board Serenity. His people. His crew. Mal and Freya, Kaylee and Simon, River, Jayne, Inara … and Zoe. His beautiful Zoe. Who he'd wanted from the first moment he'd seen her, wanted to take into his arms and make live again, wanted to …

Suddenly he couldn't breathe.

"Hold on."

--

"Mal, I think I know where they're holding Hank."

Mal turned to stare at Freya. "Kinda behind the times, ain't you?" He jerked his head to indicate the black outside the window. "That's where we're headed."

"No. I think we're headed wrong." She held out a Cortex pad. "We have to get back to Wayborn."

He sighed. "Frey, honey, we already searched there. This is our best –"

"Look at this."

He turned away, back to the course River had set so they would be less easily detectable. "Better make it –" he began to say, but Freya interrupted.

"Mal, look at it!" This time her voice was the one she'd used as a lieutenant, and she emphasised it with her mind.

He turned to glare at her. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me," he ground out.

"Mal." Her tone softened to pleading. "Please."

He took the pad reluctantly. "So what am I looking at?"

"These are the original blueprints for the Wayborn Skyplex."

He glanced down. "So?"

"Look at the name at the bottom."

He scrolled down. "Niska Corpor –" His head jerked up. "Niska?"

"It must have been one of the first he built commercially. Added to, supplemented, but it's one of his."

Mal unconsciously felt his left ear. "Look, as much as I hate the man –"

"I've been comparing these with the ground plans of what's there now. Seeing what's different."

"Not sure that helps." He tried a small smile at her, knowing she wanted to assist in any way she could. "Like you said, a lot's been added –"

"No. Not added. What should be there – and isn't." She reached over and pressed one of the buttons, and two plans superimposed over each other. She highlighted an area. "There's a whole section missing."

Mal stared. She was right. A whole series of rooms as the very centre of the Skyplex were just not there. "You think it's a hideout?"

"I think there may be one on every skyplex he ever built." She leaned against the console, her back aching. "It's not uncommon, Mal. A crook using a legitimate business to hide his illegal activities." She eased her spine. "Only maybe this time he actually had somewhere to put stuff."

He noticed but didn't comment. "Like prisoners."

"Yeah."

Mal gazed out of the window, thinking hard. "What if you're wrong and River's right? That Hank's on the ship we're dogging? We go back and there's nothing there but storage, we'll lose them. Probably for good."

"Then let me take the shuttle. We're still in range, just. I'll go back and check. If I'm right, you can hightail it to join me."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then I get the chance to go shopping while I wait for you to get Hank then come pick me up."

Mal considered. "Not sure I like this, Frey."

"Do we have a choice?" Their eyes locked, and lot more passed between them than just looks.

"You ain't going alone. No matter you don't say, I can see you're still in pain." She went to deny it, but he held up his hand. "I can see, _ai ren_. You're gonna take someone with you."

River looked up hopefully. "Captain –"

"No, albatross. Need you to fly my boat. And I get the feeling Jayne might be handy boarding that ship." He looked at his wife. "Take Zoe."

"Mal, she's pregnant!"

"As you kept telling me when you were carrying Ethan, that don't mean you're broken."

"She won't want to –"

"I'll go," the woman herself said from the doorway. She stepped onto the bridge. "I gotta be somewhere. May as well be with you since I can't split myself down the middle." She looked at Mal. "If he's on board that ship, you bring him home to me, Mal. _Dong mah_?"

"Wouldn't think of doing anything less, Zoe," Mal promised, more shaken by her use of his first name than anything. "Better go. We're almost at the limit of the shuttle now."

--

Niska's man was removing the device from Hank's chest when Donaldson hurried into the room. He paused at the sight of the pilot, his hair plastered to his scalp with sweat. His head was turned away, but his lips were mumbling.

"Is … is this really necessary?" Donaldson asked.

Niska shrugged. "I have to entertain myself until you bring more."

"But this …" He come round to the front of the column. "For fun?"

"Not for fun. I learn things. Many things when I take a man to the limit of his endurance."

"But what can he tell you?"

Niska smiled. "Is not information I want. Only time."

Donaldson shook his head, not understanding and not really wanting to. "Well, I came to tell you, we're about to have visitors."

"Visitors?"

As Donaldson explained, Niska's eyes gleamed.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm not the man you were."

"Nope."

"That's not helpful."

"Sorry, was I supposed to be?"

"Yeah. Tell me how you survived this."

"You think I …" There was a chuckle. "If it hadn't been for Zoe I'd be dead. Well, dead before I actually … you know … died. So would Mal."

"I'm too weak."

"It ain't weakness, Hank. Just humanity. Something these creeps are sadly lacking in." There was a pause. "So what do you think Mal would do?"

"Spit in his eye?"

"Damn straight."

"I don't know that I've got any spit left."

"Metaphorically, then."

"Oh, that I can probably manage."

"Hank, my cupcake needs you. Be strong for her."

"I'll try."

"Good lad."

"They're here," Donaldson said.

"Shit," Hank groaned.

"I second that," Wash admitted, his voice fading away.

--

They'd barely spoken more than a dozen words since they'd detached the shuttle from Serenity and flown it back to Wayborn Skyplex. Now Zoe and Freya were walking through the crowds towards the centre of the complex, ignoring the vendors calling out to them, pushing through knots of people to get to their goal.

Hustle and bustle gave way to people huddled in small groups, their clothes old and ragged, no money to go anywhere so eking out some kind of living on the edge. Then only crates and dust.

"You really think he's here?" Zoe asked.

"I don't know." Freya was watching ahead of them.

"How come you can't feel him?"

"I can't always. Even when I was … before the Naxom … it was hard to reach out to people sometimes."

"River can't either."

"That doesn't mean he's dead," Freya said quickly, knowing that was worrying Mal's closest friend.

"I know."

"Yet you can't quite believe it."

"I don't see why anyone would take him in the first place."

Freya stopped, putting her hand on Zoe's arm, making her halt too. "When I was … when Wing … Hank believed for me. Believe for him now."

"I do," Zoe insisted. "But I've been proved wrong too many times." She walked on. "He's not like Wash, Frey. There was something about my husband that … he could be so strong, sometimes. So determined."

"And you think Hank isn't?"

"They ain't the same."

"No. But that's a good thing too. And I think Hank'll surprise you."

Zoe allowed a small smile. "You always did get on well with him."

"Unrequited love," Freya said softly. "I know how it felt."

"And if I hadn't let him in I wouldn't be feeling like this now."

"Feeling like what?"

"Out of control." She'd always, even in the depths of the fighting on moons she barely knew the name of, all the way to Serenity Valley, she'd always known a sense of purpose, of certainty. Not like Mal, who had a total conviction that they'd be victorious, a conviction so solid that it shattered when the command came through to lay down arms, but a certainty of her own survival. That she knew what she was doing. Now it felt like she was wading through a quagmire of insecurity.

"You love him," Freya pointed out, seeing the thoughts as clearly as if Zoe had been speaking.

"I loved Wash."

"And you felt the same about him."

"I …" She paused. "Yes, I suppose I did." And look where that got me, she thought.

"Hank isn't going to die, Zoe."

"I thought that about Wash too."

"Then let's make sure of it." Freya moved ahead, her limp mostly under control. "This is it." She nodded towards a blank wall.

"There's nothing there."

"The plans say different."

Zoe stepped forward, running her hands over the plain grey metal. It felt so smooth to the touch, so unlike the panels they'd been passing for a while, where rust seemed to have taken up a permanent home. "This is new," she breathed.

"Is that a good sign or not?" Freya murmured as quietly.

"Only one way to find out." She moved along, her fingertips testing each rivet and bolt, until suddenly there was a click and the whole section moved smoothly away. In front of them was a small room, another doorway at the end. She heard Freya scratching something into the paint, then they both stepped inside.

Zoe had drawn her mare's leg, holding it high, ready to blast anyone and anything to get to the man who had come to mean so much to her, and she knew Freya had her own weapon in her hand. Then movement behind them had her beginning to turn, but there was a flare of actinic light before pain spread across her back, a cry forcing itself from her lips, and she fell forwards into swirling black …

--

The sky swam, stars spinning around them.

"River, what the hell are you doing?" Mal demanded, grabbing hold of the back of the pilot's chair to avoid being thrown across the bridge.

"Need to get back. Now."

"Back? Back where?"

"Wayborn. Freya and Zoe …" She lifted her face to stare at him, and the look in her eyes made his face blanch.

"No …" Mal squeezed the back of the chair until he was sure he could feel the metal beneath give. "Who, River?"

"Niska."

The full horror hit him, and he fought the churning urge to be physically sick. He wanted to swear, to say something, to shout and scream to release the terror in his mind that he'd just lost Freya for good, that the next time he saw her she'd be nothing but a blood-drenched corpse, yet all he could do was stand and stare at the young psychic …

"Captain?" Kaylee leaned into the bridge. "What's going on? I thought we were chasing that ship. Why're we turning?"

He swallowed back the bile in his throat. "Niska's got 'em," he managed to say.

Kaylee went white. "Niska? You sure?" She looked at River. "Niska?"

River nodded.

"_Wo de mah_." She collapsed back against the bulkhead.

--

Zoe opened her eyes. She didn't want to, preferring to stay in the warm darkness, but something was dragging her back. A voice. Calling out. Making her wake up. Letting the pain in her back and arms force a groan from her.

"Zoe!"

She struggled to focus. "Hank?" She blinked hard, then her eyes cleared. Her lover was strapped to some kind of tripod, and there was something familiar about it. He was naked to the waist, and his left eye was swollen closed. His chest was covered in burns and cuts, some of which still bled. Horribly familiar. She got her feet under herself and stood up.

"Thank God!" he said, trying again to loosen the bindings enough so he could get to her. He'd seen them brought in, unconscious, and attached to the rings set into the wall, and that had hurt more than anything that had been done to him.

"Where's Frey?" Zoe managed to whisper.

He nodded and Zoe turned her head. Freya was hanging in the manacles, still unconscious. Her head lolled on her chest. "I didn't think … it's been so long since they brought you in here …" He was almost crying with relief that she was awake.

She looked back at him. "Are you okay?"

He managed a weak laugh. "Oh, apart from being tied down and someone cutting on me, sure, I'm shiny." Then he glared at her. "Only I'm not so shiny when I wonder what the _diyu_ you're doing here!"

"Rescuing you."

"Rescue –" He shook his head in disbelief. "Hate to break this to you, sweetie, but you're chained to a wall. "If this is a rescue, you're going about it in a very odd way." He glanced towards the door. "And where are the others? Are they tied up elsewhere?"

"They're not here, Hank." Freya was stirring next to her, and Zoe glanced across. "It's just me and Freya."

"The Cap let you come after me by yourselves?" The look on his face bordered on incredulity.

"We didn't … we weren't sure you were here. It was just an idea Freya had. Something to do with this Skyplex being built by a guy named Niska, and some hidden compartments."

"Niska?" Hank said, nodding slightly. "Old, balding, wears glasses?"

"You've heard of him."

"Not difficult when he's using a knife on you."

As an astonished Zoe was about to answer, a laugh came from the doorway. "This is a pleasant surprise. Is always so nice to meet old friends," Niska said, stepping into the room.

"_Tah muh duh hwoon dahn_," Zoe breathed.

"I hope the stun weapons did not inconvenience you?" Niska asked as he crossed the floor towards her, almost as if he was really concerned. "Crude but effective."

"I've had worse."

"I am sure of that. Captain Reynolds is not so good at keeping his crew out of trouble."

"What do you want?" Zoe could see Freya from the corner of her eye, managing to get her feet under her and stand upright, swaying a little.

"I want nothing. I already have it." He realised the other woman was awake. "Ah, and another unknown guest to me. Perhaps I introduce myself. I am Adelai Niska. And you are …?"

Freya stared at him. This was the man who'd … She swallowed and deliberately looked over at Hank. "You okay?" she asked.

"Could be better, Frey," the pilot conceded.

"We'll get out of this. Mal'll see to that."

"Whatever you say. Though I'm kinda wondering just how that's gonna happen."

Niska had listened to the conversation, and now his eyes widened slightly. "You are Captain Reynolds' wife?" He stepped close to Freya, his glasses catching the light.

"What's it to you?" Freya asked.

"I heard. Rumours, you understand. That Captain Reynolds had married a Freya Nordstrom. I keep my ear to the ground, as you say. Although I understand your husband might find that difficult." He chuckled, his words at odds with his benevolent aspect.

"Not so's you'd notice."

"Then he is complete?"

"If you mean did he get his ear reattached? Then yes."

"Is good." Niska clapped his hands. "And is so nice to meet you, Mrs Reynolds."

"I'm so glad I can't say the same." She tugged on the chains.

The old man smiled. "Not the most comfortable of times, no. But, as I say, your reputation precedes you."

Zoe swallowed. This man had a thing about reputation, and it had caused them a world of hurt before.

"Nice to know."

"And how is the good captain? He is fit, I trust?"

"He's fine." Freya again tested the ring she was manacled to, but it was too firmly set into the wall. She might be able to use it to swing herself up, catch Niska with her feet, but she'd still be unable to free herself. "I'm sure he'd send his regards if he knew we were having this little … chat."

Niska touched his hands together, almost as if in prayer. "So droll. It seems our good captain is an influence on you all."

"Why don't you let me free and we'll see just what he influences."

"No, no, Mrs Reynolds. I have other plans. Is a pity, but my employers wish results. But I think in this case, I can perhaps kill two birds with only one stone." His eyes glittered behind the lenses. "And I hurt Captain Reynolds without touching him."

"You're going to torture me?" Despite the ice in the pit of her stomach she managed a laugh. "I've been worked over by professionals. I don't think you're going to be any kind of comparison."

Niska looked at her, a pensive look on his face. Then he motioned to the man with him to come forward. "Perhaps we should show Mrs Reynolds what being a professional means."

The man nodded and undid her shirt, a leer on his face. He pulled it open, then stepped back.

"Frey –" Zoe began.

"It's okay," her friend said, but there was the suspicion of a tremble in her voice.

Zoe could only observe, mentally pleading with Freya not to antagonise this man. She'd seen at first hand what he could do, and she would never forget the sight of his torturer using that knife on Mal, slicing through his ear, the sound of Mal's scream ripping into her. The feel of his flesh inside her waistcoat would stay with her for the rest of her life.

She watched Niska move closer, examining the fine scars on Freya's skin. "This … is interesting." He ran a finger along one.

Freya tried not to flinch away. But the memories of her bones being broken, her flesh violated made her heart beat faster.

Another man stepped forward out of the shadows, younger than Niska, in a fashionable suit. "We don't have time for this," he said, his eyes going from one woman to the other, disgust plain in his voice.

"You have more subjects?" Niska asked, pressing slightly harder on the scar, gratified by her slight intake of breath.

"They're coming. But do you need any right now? You have them." He nodded towards the prisoners.

Niska smiled. "True." He stepped reluctantly away from Freya. "Perhaps this will be equally interesting."

"What do you intend?"

"Is a conundrum, such a choice. But perhaps we try Mr Mills."

"What are you talking about?" Zoe asked, her heart pounding.

--

"You sure it's the door?" Jayne asked, trying to wedge his fingers into the slight crack where the panel met the bolt plate.

"Positive," River said. "It's the way they went through. Look." She pointed to a scratch in the paint.

"What's that?" The big man peered at it. "Looks like a heart."

"River's right," Mal said, jogging up and looking at the mark, Simon close behind. "That's Frey." It was the same as the one he'd carved into their tree on Lazarus.

"Don't matter if it is," Jayne said, his muscles straining, "cause it ain't moving, Mal."

"There has to be a catch, something to open it."

River pointed to a rivet. "This is it, but it won't work. They've locked us out."

"Grenade?"

Jayne shook his head. "Too thick. 'N' in this confined space the concussion'd prob'ly kill us."

Mal's fury threatened to overflow. "There must be some damn way to get in there!"

"Someone on this place may have some demolition charges. Want me to go look?"

"No time," River said.

"What do you mean?" Simon asked.

"He won't wait." She held up a print-out. "But there is another way in. Kaylee found it on the original plans." She handed it to Mal.

The others looked over his shoulder.

"_Mei-mei_, it's just a heating duct. It's not large enough for anyone to get through," Simon pointed out.

"I can."

"No!"

"Why won't he wait?" Mal asked over the young doctor.

River turned her big eyes on him. "He's going to hurt them. Badly. Very soon."

Mal's brain furnished him with images he didn't want, of his wife on a table, twisting in pain, his friends already dead … "Where is it?" he asked.

"A hundred yards down the corridor over there."

"Can you make it?"

"No, Mal!" Simon shouted. "She's not going in there!"

"We're not going to be in time otherwise, _da ge_." She settled the two gunbelts Jayne had adapted for her to sit across her chest, the pistols under the arms. "There is no-one else."

Simon stared at her, her conviction, then nodded reluctantly. "Be careful, _mei-mei_," he whispered.

"I always am."

"Jayne, go with her. Make sure she's inside, then come back." Mal handed over a comlink. "You get into any trouble, yell."

"I will, captain." She looked into his blue eyes, dark with concern for his wife. "I'll bring her back to you."

"See that you do."

She nodded and hurried down the corridor, Jayne at her heels.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, following closely.

"I have to stay focused." She glanced at him. "Will you help me?"

"You need me, you just … do what you do, okay?"

"Be strong for me, Jayne. And for the captain."

"Sure thing, moonbrain."

River flashed him a quick smile then stopped. "Here," she said, looking up at a grating.

Jayne reached up and, using nothing but brute strength, heaved it from the wall. A dark, narrow passage presented itself. "You gonna be okay in there?" he asked, peering in.

"Lift me." She held out her arms and he put his hands on her waist, lifting her up.

Just as she was about to slide into the duct, he pulled her back to him. "Listen, I just wanted you to know … in case you didn't …" He stopped.

"What is it, Jayne?"

"It's okay to kill these _hwoon dahns_."

River gave a sigh. "Thank you." She'd hoped it might be something else … then he kissed her on the cheek.

"You take care, River," he said gruffly, manoeuvring her into the passage before heading back towards the others.

Her eyes went wide for a moment, but it was with a wide smile on her face that she began to snake along the duct.


	7. Chapter 7

"Do you know what this is, Mr Mills?" Niska asked, holding up a small vial.

"Perfume?" Hank managed to croak, his throat raw.

"Very amusing. You must continue. We must see how far you can keep being amusing, Mr Mills." Niska nodded encouragingly. "I had high hopes of Captain Reynolds – do you think you could match him?"

Hank shuddered.

"So tell us," Freya said, seeing the tremor going through the pilot's body, glad to get Niska away from him.

"You have perhaps heard of Miranda."

"Heard of it?" Hank let his head drop back against the metal frame. "Oh, just a bit."

"Then you will understand what Reavers are. How they were created."

Zoe looked at the vial and realisation struck like an axe into her spine. "_Run-tse duh fuo-tsoo_," she breathed.

"Yes, yes," Niska said, turning to her, delight on his old man's face. "Captain Reynolds chooses his crew carefully. You have intelligence." He turned the vial to catch the light, the green fragments glittering like shards of emeralds. "G-32 Paxilon Hydrochlorate, to be precise."

Freya stood straighter. "What the hell are you doing with that _gos se_?"

"Mr Donaldson and his principles, they needed someone who understands about pain. Inflicting. Causing. Finding the person beneath the skin. Me."

"That's a plus?" Hank shook his head. "You're crazier than I'd heard."

Niska just smiled benevolently at him. "Have you heard of the writings of Shan Yu?" he asked. "I would like to teach you."

Zoe stiffened. "So this Pax," she said, trying to draw his attention back. "Why? What would the Alliance want with more of this stuff?"

"Alliance?" Niska laughed. "Not quite. At least not what you might consider Alliance."

Donaldson stepped forward uncomfortably. "Look, I really don't think this is the kind of thing you should be discussing."

"Why not?" Niska asked. "They are dead people."

His words, said so normally, chilled them all.

"Well, dead or not, it's not the sort of thing you should go talking about."

"You want to control them." Freya spoke quietly, slowly. "Control the Reavers."

"Is not possible," Niska tutted. "Too violent. But perhaps if we can create them, use a reduced dose, then they can be, how you say, manipulated. Think of the … applications."

"My God." Zoe shook her head, her mouth suddenly dry. "You can't do this. Do you … have you seen what Reavers do?"

Niska shrugged. "Is not my problem. I am doing a job. A piece of work. It is the creation that amuses me."

"And watching them kill," Donaldson added, barely bothering to hide his loathing for this old man.

"That too." Niska smiled. "I never tire of that."

"You're a sadist," Freya spat.

"Perhaps. Your husband would know more of that than yourself." He stepped closer again, touching one of the scars. "But perhaps not." He ran his fingertips tenderly from one to another, as if joining them in his mind …

"So you've been experimenting on people?" Zoe asked.

"For a while," Donaldson admitted, breaking his own rule. "Only we've not exactly been that successful yet. Not sure why. There doesn't seem to be a reason for one man becoming a Reaver over another. It's interesting."

Zoe and Freya exchanged a quick glance. If Simon had been right, after the attack on Corvus, they knew that Reavers were the potential psychics amongst Miranda's population, but they were sure as hell not about to enlighten these madmen.

"Ain't you afraid one of those damn things'll break?" Hank asked, seeing the look, afraid Niska might have seen, and wanting to get their attention back to him. "Infect everyone here?"

Niska, though, seemed too intrigued by Freya's scars to notice, his breath on her skin making her want to turn away, only there was nowhere to go. He picked up a blade from the table, using the point to run along her flesh.

"Antidote," Donaldson said, tapping his pocket. "We all carry them." He watched Niska trace the marks on the woman's chest, and could take no more. "Leave her alone."

Niska turned to look at him. "You are developing a conscience?"

"No. But this … this is … unnecessary." He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his top lip.

"Perhaps to me it is necessary."

"You're not being paid to mutilate women."

"No. Just to turn men into those who would."

"That's different."

"Perhaps we are more alike than you would choose to believe."

Donaldson glared at him in revulsion.

"An antidote," Zoe murmured. "Then you mean you could have saved those …" She couldn't speak for a moment, her mind replaying the sights on Miranda, all those millions of people just laying down and dying because they gave up eating, sleeping, breathing. Corpses as far as the eye could see …

Donaldson shook his head. "Ah, no. Actually not. This wasn't developed until afterwards."

"Besides," Niska added, "is only effective within a few minutes, and not on the more… aggressive subjects."

"We can't stop the Reavers," Donaldson said apologetically.

"No, but you want to control them." Freya was glaring at him. The thoughts she'd picked up after Corvus, the satisfaction that the Reavers had been prevented from wiping out the town … she shivered.

"Enough," Niska said, dropping the knife back onto the table. "Is not important. What we want, what we do … you will see soon enough."

"See?"

"I think a little experiment. I think Mr Mills will be our test subject." He nodded towards his torturer, who grinned and crossed to the metal frame. "Interesting, yes?"

"Leave him alone," Zoe threatened.

"He means something to you?"

"He's a member of my crew. Leave him alone."

"Please, do not struggle so," Niska said, tutting gently. "If this is successful, he will not be kept from you for very long. In fact, almost exactly the opposite."

The torturer had loosened Hank's restraints, and pulled the pilot towards the capsule standing waiting. He was fighting as much as he could, but what he'd been through had made him weaken, and he couldn't stop his progress.

"What … what are you doing?" Freya asked, pulling at the manacles, the skin on her wrists tearing. She could feel the slow drip of blood down her forearms.

"A reduced quantity of Pax is used," Donaldson explained. "Although lately I've been coming around to the conclusion that less is more."

"We argue," Niska said dismissively, watching his torturer push Hank inside. The door closed with a hiss. He turned back to the others. "But this is the question. Which will he be? When the door opens, will he lay down and die or tear your flesh for his feast?"

"You're insane." Zoe was struggling as much as Freya, with as little success, her eyes on Hank. He was leaning against the plastiglass, barely able to hold himself up.

Niska touched her face, patting her cheek. "We shall see. And if he is not, then I still have you."

Zoe wanted to turn her head and bite his finger off. "He won't kill us."

"Then you will be next." Niska handed the vial to his torturer, who went to the control console and dropped it into the waiting opening. There was a slight hum. "And if you too are not of the correct type, then I shall still have Mrs Reynolds to entertain me."

Donaldson coughed. "That's not our deal."

"Our deal?" Niska turned to him. "I have to have something to occupy me until you find more subjects. And Captain Reynolds took something precious from me." He held out his hand. "Shall we?"

--

"What is taking so gorram long?" Mal was pacing, unable to keep still.

"It's only been five minutes," Simon said, not feeling that much calmer himself.

Jayne understood, though. Inside that room, with that _ga ni niang_ doing things to 'em, were the two most important women in Mal's life. His first mate and his wife. The one who'd kept him alive all through the war, and the one who made it worth living now. "She's going fast as she can," he said. "It twists a lot."

"She's telling you?" Simon asked in surprise. She'd rarely dropped her thoughts into his mind, and to find this big man mentioning it so nonchalantly, as if it happened all the time …

"Yeah," Jayne admitted. "You got a problem with that?"

As much as Simon wanted to say yes, to admit it hurt him more than he wanted that his little sister would communicate with this mercenary ape, he remembered her words.

"Does he make you happy, _mei-mei_?" he'd asked.

_Yes_.

"Why?"

_Does there have to be a reason?_

He'd had to tell the truth. "I suppose not."

_Be happy for me, Simon_.

"River … I'll try."

So Simon shook his head. "No. If she talks to you … that's fine."

Jayne nodded, for once not taking the opportunity to make fun of the young doctor. Not at a time like this. "She's there," he said quietly.

Mal jerked, staring at the big man before laying his hands on the door.

--

River watched through the grating, doing the math. Five men, including Niska. She'd never seen him in the flesh, but didn't need to. It was him. Of the others, only three were really any threat, but they were real enough.

Time to act. They'd put Hank into some sort of tube, and from the feelings and thoughts emanating from the two women chained to the wall, this was bad. Very, very bad.

Triangulate, measure, aim … everything was going through River's mind at once, as she tried to block out the fear below and outside, the anger beating at her. If they'd all just shut up she could …

She kicked the grating cover, falling from the duct and turning in one movement, firing one of her guns before she even hit the floor. One down, gasping for his last breath as his blood pumped from a throat torn out by her bullet. Niska was in reach, and she span on one foot, her other catching him on the side of the head, knocking him down. Two.

Her momentum kept her going, and she saw the man she had considered less of a threat drawing a small pistol from inside his jacket. She quickly added him to the variable, but continued in her movement, firing again from each gun, doing a forward roll to land on her feet. The third one fell backwards, his forehead showing two small holes, the back of his skull missing. He'd managed to fire, the bullet hitting the wall a scat two inches from Zoe's head. Not good.

A breeze over her shoulder indicated the fourth one had missed, but he was lining up for another shot. She began to run, her speed taking them by surprise, up the wall and flipping backwards, firing twice more as she was upside down, two different directions. The torturer looked down at the remains of his hand, his fingers smashed and missing, then slumped to the floor, blood pouring from the hole in the back of his mouth.

Donaldson, hit with the other bullet, slid to the floor, his gun falling from nerveless digits as he tried to speak.

In the sudden silence River stood still, looking around before replacing her weapons in their holsters.

"River, what the hell are you doing here?" Freya asked, almost conversationally.

"Rescue," she said simply.

"River? You're River Tam?" Donaldson managed to say, staring at her, his hand pressed against the blood bubbling from his chest.

River furrowed her brow, looking down at him. "I don't think I know you."

"I can't believe you're really …" What he was about to say died with him as his life rushed from his mouth and nostrils, staining his shirt and pooling on the floor. His eyes, fixed on her face, didn't move as she walked away.

--

"They're safe," Jayne said, a wide grin on his face. He clapped Simon on the back, thrusting him forward with the impetus.

"And River?"

"She's shiny."

"Thank God." He smiled at the mercenary.

Mal, the man who didn't believe, who only prayed for his wife, thanked every deity he could remember.

"Key's over there," Zoe said, nodding towards the small table. River sorted through the various instruments of torture, then picked it up.

"I never thought I'd be so pleased to see you," Freya said, holding out her hands.

"The others are outside," River said, releasing the manacles, then managing to catch Freya in time before she slid to the floor.

"I'm okay. Do Zoe's." She leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get past the aching in her entire body before going to help Hank.

"Thanks," Zoe said, her hands dropping, wincing as she rubbed her wrists where they were raw. Her shoulders were killing her, but that wasn't her main concern. "Where's the control for this damn thing?" she added, joining Freya.

Suddenly River screamed. "No!"

She'd turned towards the control panel, but saw Niska on his knees in front of it. She ran towards him but it was too late. He'd reached the override control, and pressed the button. Vapour began to pour into the capsule with Hank even as River caught him across the temple with her foot.

"Get him out!" Zoe ordered, reaching for the door.

"No!" Freya put her arms around her, trying to hold her struggling body back.

"Let me go …" Zoe hit out, her fist catching Freya on the cheek.

Her ears rang, but she held on. "I let you go and the gas gets out, we're all dead."

"It might not be like that –" Zoe was still fighting.

"It will for River and me."

Zoe stopped, looked aghast at Freya. "_Wo de tien a_," she muttered, all the fighting going out of her. She turned to watch the father of her child inside the plastiglass coffin, her eyes fixed on his as the gas rose above the level of his head. "Can't we clear it?"

"It's an automatic system," River said softly, studying the controls. Indeed, a few moments later the pumps started and the gas was evacuated through the pipes at the top.

Freya let Zoe go, and the first mate reached out, resting her hand on the cold capsule. Something touched her arm, and she looked down. River was holding out one of her guns.

"If anyone has to …" River said softly.

Zoe nodded, taking the weapon from her, knowing she had to end the father of her child if it came to it.

There was a long pause, and no-one was breathing. It lengthened, until the tension was so tight in the air that just a sound would make it shatter into a billion pieces.

Then Hank slid to the floor of the capsule, his face vacant, his eyes staring into nothing.

"Frey!" Zoe shouted, dropping the gun.

"River, the antidote," Freya called.

Even as she thought, before the words were fully formed in her mouth, River had nodded at her and dropped to her heels next to Donaldson's body.

Zoe found the door release and the side of the capsule popped. She reached in, pulling Hank out to lie in her arms. "Hold on, baby. Just hold on," she whispered.

"Here." River held out an automatic hypo.

Without a moment's thought Zoe injected it into his neck. "Help me," she said quietly, getting her hands under Hank's arms, lifting him. River took his legs and they carried him away from the pod, setting him down on the floor.

Zoe smoothed his sweat-damp hair from his face. "Come on, Hank. I know you're strong. You can beat this." She waited, for what seemed an eternity. "Gorramit, Hank! Don't you want to see your son born?" she shouted into his face, shaking him.

"Can't you leave a feller alone to die in peace?" Hank croaked, trying to open his eyes but only succeeding with one. "Without all this noise?"

Zoe gave up her own prayer of thanks and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey, is this heaven?" Hank asked, trying to smile.

Freya watched, then turned to Niska. He was sitting dazed against the console, his glasses askew, blood seeping from a head wound. She went down on her heels next to him.

"It's not right," she murmured. "Not right. None of this." She shook her head as she gazed at this monster of a man. "What you were doing." She came to a decision and lifted him to his feet. Her back wrenched, but only a slight groan forced its way past her lips as she manhandled him towards the capsule. "Not even for belief," she muttered. "Just for the pleasure of the pain you were causing." She thrust him inside.

"What are you doing?" Niska asked, his faculties returning.

"Time to end it." She pressed the button and the door closed.

As Niska fully realised where he was, and her intentions, his hand darted to inside his jacket.

"Looking for this?" Freya asked, holding up an automatic hypo, twin to the one Zoe had used on Hank. "I may be a little rusty, but I can still pick a pocket if I need to," she said, knowing her words couldn't be heard, but the twisted smile on her lips was loud enough.

Niska's face registered what was happening. He began to bang on the inside of the capsule, his mouth screaming silently, his glasses falling to the floor in his terror, trampling on them, his eyes naked, small … afraid.

Freya crossed to the control panel, picking one of the vials from the open box. She watched the liquid move inside, the green chips barely touching each other. Sliding the cover open, she put the vial inside the waiting receptacle. "Which one do you suppose makes this all work?" she asked, her head on one side.

River stepped close. "This one." She put out her hand but Freya grabbed her wrist.

"No. Not you."

Zoe, on the floor next to Hank, watched them look at each other, the unspoken communication between them at what was about to happen, and nodded slowly.

She didn't need the darkness, not this time. She lifted her head and looked at Niska, still pounding on the inside of the capsule. "_Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia diyu _," Freya murmured, dropping her hand on the button and speeding him to hell.

Gas whispered into the capsule. Niska looked down, trying to wave it away, attempting to climb the sheer walls, anything to stop himself inhaling. He held his breath until his vision began to redden, until he knew he couldn't hold out, until he had to take it deep into his lungs … it tasted of roses and death.

The others watched as the vapour filled the capsule then was sucked out.

"Do you think –" Hank began to say, then stopped as Niska threw himself at the wall of the capsule, his mouth working, saliva running down his chin and spitting onto the plastic. His eyes were mad, insane, his fingers curled into claws, ready to rend and tear.

Freya stood, expressionless, staring.

"Time to go," River said softly, putting her hand on the older woman's arm. "They're waiting for us."

Zoe got Hank to his feet, supporting him. "She's right, Frey."

"I hate to think he's like us," Freya said quietly, hardly even words.

"He wasn't," River responded. "Only a potential." She glanced at the thing in the capsule. "Not even that now."

Freya nodded slowly. "Let's go."

"Is he …" Hank began, letting Zoe help him to the door.

"Not now, dear," she said, stepping into the outer chamber. "Best to forget all about this." She headed for the door, not looking back.

River went to follow, then stopped. Freya was still staring at the capsule.

"Frey?"

She didn't answer, just held out her hand. River placed one of her guns in it.

For a long moment Freya didn't move, then in one smooth motion raised the gun and fired at the capsule. The plastiglass crazed but didn't break. She fired again, hearing River's pistol open up next to her. It wasn't strong enough to withstand that kind of firepower, and the entire side shattered. The creature that had been Niska climbed through, ignoring the sharp edges that cut into his skin, leaving blood smears and scraps of flesh.

River expected Freya to fire again, to kill him, but instead she pushed a tray of surgical instruments towards the raging beast, then slammed the door closed, locking it. She turned to see a technician cowering in the corner. With something like gentle hands, she slid the hypo from his pocket and handed it to River, who took it carefully. She nodded over her shoulder towards the door. "Best not open that," she said softly. "Not for a very long time. If ever."

The technician, terrified at what he had seen, nodded.

Picking up her and Zoe's weapons from the side, Freya glanced through the heavy window. The Reaver was tearing at the bodies of the men River had killed, but finding no satisfaction. Then he saw a scalpel on the floor. He picked it up, turning it, letting the light catch it before he drew the blade down his own cheek … His howl echoed through the air ducts.

--

"What the hell was that? And where are they?" Mal asked, turning on Jayne.

"They're coming," the big man assured him. "Just cleanin' up some crap."

"What?" Mal's brows drew together, but his next words were halted by the sound of metal sliding on metal. He turned.

As the grey panel slid open, Mal and the others had their guns ready, but there was a collective sigh of relief as Zoe helped Hank through, River and Freya following.

"Everyone okay?" Mal asked, wanting desperately to take his wife into his arms and hold her tightly.

"Shiny, Cap," Hank said, his words slurring a little.

Simon was checking him over. "I need him back on board Serenity right now." He glanced at Zoe and Freya, the blood on their wrists, the pallor to their skin. "All of you."

"Not going to get any arguments from me," Zoe said, letting Jayne help with Hank.

Freya turned to him. "You need to check Zoe first. She got hit by a stun weapon. I think the baby's fine, but …"

Hank stared at her, then at Zoe, his face ashen. "God, Zo, I didn't even think …"

"It's okay," she said. "I'm fine."

"But the baby …" He glanced down at her belly, then back into her eyes. "If anything happened to him …"

"Freya's right," Zoe assured him, trying to make him believe. "I'd know if anything was wrong. And he's fine."

"It's a boy?" Jayne asked but everyone ignored him.

Hank lifted his arm from Zoe's shoulders. "And what are you doing helping me? You should be being carried out of here yourself!"

"No-one is carrying me anywhere." Zoe had her calm face back on. "_Dong mah_?"

"Yeah, sure, but … honey, the baby."

"Is fine."

"Can you let the doctor be the judge of that?" Simon asked, glaring at them. "And the sooner we get back to Serenity the sooner I can prove it."

"What, that you're the doctor?"

"Hank, move before I sedate you and make Jayne carry _you_ home."

"I'm going, I'm going." He leaned on the big man and they started to walk back to the docking area.

"You okay?" Jayne asked River, who fell into step next to him.

"I'm fine." She put her hand on his arm.

"Good." He smiled at her. "Wouldn't want anything bad to … you know … to you."

Freya hung back.

"What is it, _ai ren_?" Mal asked. "They likely to be coming after us?" He was still tense, his hand ready near his gun.

"No. Niska doesn't exist any more." She closed her eyes, swaying a little.

Immediately he had his arms around her, holding her up. "Frey?"

"Take me home, Mal," she whispered, leaning into him. "Just take me home."


	8. Chapter 8

They'd eaten, the tension of the last couple of days all but gone. Everyone was around the table, even Hank, who had insisted on leaving the infirmary. So far most of the talk was about the upcoming baby.

"A boy," Kaylee repeated for the fiftieth time. "Can't believe you two are gonna have a son." She grinned. "Does Inara know?"

"That it's a boy?" Hank shook his head. "Not yet. Thought we might save that for when we visit."

"And when's that gonna be, Cap'n?" The young mechanic turned to Mal.

Mal's jaw dropped. "You just left her a few days since!"

"And look what's happened in the meantime." Kaylee pouted. "Got a lot to say."

"Well, it ain't gonna be for a week or so. Gotta deliver the goods to Paquin, then we've got another job lined up on Greenleaf. Can't say no to work, Kaylee."

"Not suggesting that," Kaylee asserted. "But I'm sure there's some stuff she needs. Be like having a job."

Mal knew he wasn't going to win. Not with the looks Kaylee and Hank were giving him. Even Jayne looked anxious to get back to Lazarus. He gave in. "Talk to her. See what she might want. Maybe we can swing by after Greenleaf."

Kaylee grinned. "_Xie xie_, Cap'n."

"Are we going to see Auntie 'Nara?" Bethany asked indistinctly, sucking her spoon.

"Soon, sweetheart," Simon said, taking the spoon from her and putting it on the table.

Jayne leaned forward. "Hey, I know a trick you can do with –"

"No."

"We'll be going there in a while," Kaylee added, smoothing her daughter's hair from her face.

"She got the horses?"

"I don't know. We can ask."

Bethany grinned. "I like horses. Uncle Jayne lets me ride."

Uncle Jayne gave her a look to shut her up, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

"Horses or not, we can tell her in person," Hank said, nodding at Zoe. "Let her know about my son." He sounded so proud.

"At long as he's healthy," Zoe said.

"He is," Simon agreed. "The stun doesn't seem to have affected either of you. Although I'd be curious to know how Freya got that black eye."

"I fell," the woman in question said quickly, dragging a smile from somewhere. "Hit my face."

"Right. On someone's fist." Simon sighed. "Frey, I can clearly make out the marks of knuckles. Except it doesn't look like a man's."

"Well, it got rough in there."

"You said it," Hank put in.

"So, you never said how Simon Cobb is," Zoe said quickly to Jayne, changing the subject.

"He's shiny," the big mercenary said. "Fixing to get hisself hitched."

"Married?" Simon stared. "He's only a boy!"

"People do things a mite differently out here, doc," Mal said, smiling. "Either they get married real early, or they leave it 'til it's almost too late." He grinned at Freya, but she didn't seem to notice, wiping some mush abstractedly from Ethan's mouth.

"Maybe he knocked the girl up," Hank suggested.

Jayne glared at him. "You figuring on adding to your collection of bruises?" he asked.

"I'm sure it's true love," River put in, tucking her legs under her on the seat.

"Right," the big man agreed.

"So are we invited to the wedding?" Kaylee asked, the prospect of a party lighting her face.

"He's mentioned it," Jayne admitted grudgingly. "Ain't set yet, though," he added. "By the time I get the next letter, it'll probably all be over bar the fighting."

"You afraid we're gonna embarrass you?" Mal grinned. "I'm sure we could if we set our minds to it."

"Well, like I said, it ain't fixed. Might even change his mind." Jayne hunched down a little in his seat. "Bad enough he wants me to be his best man."

Hank couldn't help it. He whooped with laughter, then clutched his sides where they hurt. "Best man? You? I love it!"

"You're really looking to get beaten up again, ain't ya?" Jayne growled.

"Dear, sit quietly. I'd rather not have to rescue you again," Zoe said. "Not for a while."

Hank swallowed his humour and subsided somewhat.

"Well," Mal said, "if you do find out when, you let us know. Maybe we can park for a day or two on Jiangyin. Since we seem to be doing these jaunts nowadays."

"Don't be grumpy, Cap'n," Kaylee scolded him. "You know you wanna see 'Nara much as we do."

"That's no reason to be dropping by every five minutes. Woman has a life of her own to lead. As someone told me."

"Yeah, but she's still family."

Hank was picking at the dressing Simon had stuck on the cut above his eye while the conversation continued around him.

"You keep doing that and it _will_ leave a scar," the young doctor said.

"Hey, I'm just pleased I can see again."

"A little bit lower and I'd be fitting you for a prosthetic," Simon pointed out.

"You mean a fake?" Hank considered for a moment. "You know, I think I'd rather have an eyepatch. More like a pirate, you know?"

"No," Zoe said firmly.

"Don't you like the idea?"

"I like my man to have the use of two good eyes."

He grinned. "All the better to see you with, my dear," he said, raising his eyebrows then wincing.

"Is Uncle Hank a pirate?" Bethany asked, looking from one to the other.

"No, sweetie," her mother said. "Although I think he'd like to be."

"Can we play pirates tomorrow?"

"Sure, cupcake," Hank promised, then wondered where that expression had come from.

"You should still be in the infirmary," Simon said firmly. "Not playing."

"I'd rather be doing that than what …" He shivered.

Bethany looked at him, her brows drawn together. "Are you okay, Uncle Hank?" she asked, for once not wanting to peek.

He exhaled noisily, then smiled. "Sure am. Just need to get some rest."

"And you're not the only one," Kaylee said, seeing Bethany hide a yawn. "Time you should be in bed too, young lady."

"Momma, just –"

"No _just_. Uncle Hank'll be here in the morning, and you can play pirates as long as you like."

"Can I be Blackbeard?"

Kaylee gaped. "Where'd you hear about him?"

"Auntie River."

Kaylee turned to her sister-in-law. "Have you been reading to her about that kinda thing?"

River shrugged. "It's interesting. And a lot more fun than how Spot chases the ball."

"Are you teaching her to read from …" Kaylee couldn't believe her ears. "I think we need to have a talk about this."

River just smiled sweetly, looking amazingly like her niece.

Simon sighed. "You know, I don't think we're going to have much say in how our daughter is brought up," he said forlornly. "Not with the kind of family we have around here."

"But pirates?" Kaylee asked.

"Better than some of the things she could be reading."

"Anyway," Jayne put in, stroking his goatee, "you can't be Blackbeard. 'Cause that's me."

"Then who can I be?" Bethany asked as her father picked her up, swinging her to sit on his hip.

"How about Captain Blood?" the big man suggested, hearing Simon sigh mightily.

Bethany giggled. "'Kay. Will you play with us?"

Jayne chuckled. "Sure thing, short stub." He grinned wider at the look of alarm on Hank's face.

"Do you want me to put him down for you?" Kaylee asked Freya, rubbing her hand through Ethan's dark hair.

There was no response, and Mal looked at his wife, the way she was sitting staring into her plate. "Sure, _mei-mei_," he said quickly. He lifted Ethan out of the high chair and handed him to his mechanic. "We'll be along anyway in a while."

"Sure thing, Cap'n." Kaylee looked at them both, then carried Ethan out, Simon following, Bethany half asleep in his arms.

"The authorities are gonna find out about what happened, ain't they?" Hank said after a moment, fiddling with the dressing again.

"I don't see how they won't." Mal sat back. "It ain't like Wayborn is an out of the way place. Someone's gonna notice the dead people eventually."

"That technician would have called for help," Zoe said. "Although he could have just run. Not sure I'd like to have to explain what'd occurred."

River put her feet down on the floor from where she had been sitting on them. "I wiped the Cortex logs of our visit. No-one will know we were there."

"So it could be that, unless someone goes to look, it might …" Hank shuddered again. "Not sure I wanna think about that."

"I doubt they're the only dead bodies in that place," Mal said. "Just fresher than some."

"And on that happy note, I think I'd rather like to go to bed." Hank stood up, Zoe immediately following. "If I'm going to have to play pirates tomorrow, I need all the beauty sleep I can get." He fixed Jayne with a stern eye. "But you start going on about someone having to walk the plank, and I'll be the one shooting you." He turned to Zoe, holding out his arm. "May I escort you home?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "You may." She put her hand on his and they walked towards the bunks.

"'Sides," he added as they left the galley, "got something I wanna talk to you about. So what was Wash actually like?"

"Do you want to help me with my garden?" River asked Jayne. "Just for an hour."

"Sure. What do you want?"

"We have to clear out all the stuff from the storage room. Then set up the lamps ready." She glanced at Mal. "If it's okay."

Mal nodded. "Just don't make too much of a mess. And if you do –"

"We'll clear it up. The space monkeys won't win." River nodded. She took hold of Jayne's arm. "Come on. Help me create our own garden of Eden."

"Didn't that have a snake in it?" Jayne said as they walked towards the stairs.

"Oh, I think that's what they're going to be talking about," River said cryptically.

"What, snakes? I don't much care for snakes." Jayne's voice echoed up into the galley.

Mal waited until he was sure they'd all gone, then he turned to his wife. "So, what's the problem, Frey?"

"Who said there was one?" she asked, going to get up, but being stopped by his hand on hers.

"You ain't said more'n a few words all evening. You think I don't know when there's something wrong with my _xin gan_?"

She looked into his face, at his blue eyes, so willing to understand, to listen, to be there for her. She took a deep breath. "You said you didn't want us to have secrets."

"Well, in the sense of –"

"I think you'd better know what we did."

He stared at her, an odd look in his eyes. "What you did."

"We didn't … exactly … kill Niska."

"Zoe told me about the Pax."

"But she didn't know what happened after. She didn't see."

"I think you'd better explain."

She spoke, haltingly at first, then with more passion. "… so we left him there. With a tray of scalpels and the like."

Mal sat back, his mouth open slightly. "You know what he would do with them."

"Well, he had no-one else to work on. No-one alive."

"Why didn't you –"

"Because I wanted him to suffer. Mal, I'm not like you. I don't have that honourable streak that makes me love you."

"But he became a Reaver. He lost his mind. Wasn't that enough punishment –"

"That's … not quite accurate."

Mal stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

She looked down at her hands. "There's … a little piece of the Reaver that knows. Just a small bit, but he remembers who he was. Knows what he's done."

"Frey, we've killed Reavers. Lots of them. Are you saying they –"

Her head came up, her eyes dark. "No. Mal, they ain't men. There's just a piece that knows they used to be. And that piece was grateful when they died. That it was over." She took a deep breath. "But Niska … he would feel every cut, every violation he visited on his own flesh. And I wanted him to." Suddenly she got to her feet, unable to bear his blue eyes gazing at her any longer, and strode out of the room. He caught up with her outside their bunk.

"Frey, talk to me."

"I have. And I can't take the disappointment."

"You think I'm disappointed?"

"I can see it on your face."

"Then you're seeing wrong." He grabbed her arm and pulled her up the steps to the empty bridge. With his free hand he slammed the door across, locking it.

"Let go."

"No. Not 'til you see sense."

"You're hurting me."

For one single moment Mal wanted to say that he was pleased, that maybe the pain would make her see reason, that … then he let go. She rubbed her arm. "Sorry, _ai ren_, but you make me so mad sometimes."

She didn't smile. "Perhaps you should be."

"Freya, tell me what's going on. You said no secrets. So don't keep them from me now."

She stared at him, then dropped into the co-pilot's chair as if her bones had turned to water. "It … I …"

He went down on his knees next to her. "Tell me," he repeated softly.

Her eyes were filled with … something. Not pain, not despair, but so close … "I wanted him dead for what he did to you."

"I know, Frey. You said."

"But I didn't do it for that."

He looked at her, his face wary. "Why did you, then?"

"Because I didn't kill Wing!" Her outburst was as loud as it was unexpected.

"Frey –"

"You ended him. Because of what he did to me. Put a bullet in his brain. I couldn't! Then when Niska threatened to …"

"What?" Mal took her hand. "What, Frey? What haven't you told me?"

"I could see it in his mind, Mal." Her eyes closed. "Him and Wing … they made a pair." She laughed hollowly, but she swallowed back. "The things he was going to do to me …" She couldn't go on, crossing her arms protectively over her breasts, squeezing tightly.

Mal felt the rage inside him, bursting into a conflagration, and he wished he had Niska in front of him. What that man had done to him wasn't nothing, but if he'd managed to … He took a deep breath. "I'm glad you destroyed him," he said softly. "Or I would've. Frey, honey, if I'd been in the same room, known what he was planning then seen what you were about to do, I wouldn't have stopped you."

"But we'd stopped him. Already." Freya shook her head. "Guess I'm more like River than I thought. There I am telling her you can't just murder someone, and I …" She turned away to stare into the corner of Serenity's bridge.

Mal could feel the bleakness coming from her. He didn't have to be psychic to know what was going on in her mind. He put his hands, very gently, on her shoulders. "It wasn't murder, _xin gan_."

"Don't, Mal," she said, her head down. "Don't try and make it better."

"He killed a lot of people. And he enjoyed every moment. He was a sadistic bastard."

"But I'm supposed to be better than that."

"It ain't the same, Frey. You didn't do that to Niska because of what he was gonna do." He could still feel the knife slicing through his ear, the pain he thought was going to go on forever. "What he did to me …" He tried to find the right words. "He killed me, Frey. No matter I'm still here. That's just because he wanted to hurt me some more. But he would have made it permanent before long. Let alone what he did in that room before today."

"But that's no excuse for what I did."

He lifted her chin, his heart missing a beat when he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks. "Don't. Oh, please don't, honey."

"Even Jayne kills clean."

"No." Now he was forceful, his grasp firmer on her. "Don't ever compare yourself to him." He dragged her down to the floor, into his arms, holding her tightly.

"I shouldn't be around normal people." Now it was despair in her voice.

"Oh, Frey." He rocked her gently, grateful when her hands came up to grasp the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. "I wish everything out here were black and white," he said softly. "But it ain't. And you're only human." He closed his eyes. "That's all any of us are."

--

The next morning, after a night disturbed by bad dreams, Mal took the hypo River had given him to the infirmary.

"I can try and synthesise it," Simon admitted. "I can't tell how successful I'd be."

"Try, doc," Mal said. "If they decide to use that stuff against us, it could be our only form of protection."

"But Mal, if we're right, and Reavers are all potential psychics, what would it do to people like River and Frey?"

"I don't know, Simon." Mal looked at him, his eyes bleak. "If it ever gets to the stage of us finding out, Frey's made me promise to shoot her."

"Mal …" The young man was shocked. "You can't."

"No, I know. So you gotta see if you can manufacture some kind of serum for them, _dong mah_? Otherwise we're gonna have to pray they never do."


End file.
